Torchwood: Resurrection
by torchwoodtimelord
Summary: Not long after the 456 demanded 10% of Earth's children, Torchwood was shut down. Gwen moved to London with Rhys. 25 years later a new creature threatens the people of Earth, and there's only one team that can stop them.
1. CH1 thru CH3

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURECTION**_

_**CHAPTERS 1-3**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

Rain. Growing up in London, Mattie had loved to stretch out on her bed and watch the afternoon downpours through her window. Though now, trudging through it with little more than her coat to keep her warm, she was beginning to loathe this part of her job.

Rain or shine, it had to be done. She much preferred shine at the moment as her toes squished in her shoes as she walked, sweeping her flashlight from one side of the quiet street to the other.

She glanced up, wiping her face with her hand despite the futility of the action. Well ahead of her was her partner. His head was down, but she knew the expression which must have been on his face. So long as he had his gadgets, not even this monsoon could get him down.

"How much further to the checkpoint?!" she called out to him. She watched as his shoulders rolled up, then down. "Did you hear me?"

Her question was met with another shrug as he began to slow his pace, allowing her to gain on him before he came to a complete stop.

"I asked-"

"I heard you," he said, motioning to the device wrapped in cellophane in his hands. "I got caught up in checking the PRM. There's a significant energy spike nearby. I was considering the best way to approach you about it before your nagging broke my train of thought."

She rolled her eyes, giving him a playful punch in the shoulder. The action gave off a small slapping sound as wet skin met slick leather. "How much further to the checkpoint? I'm soaked to the bone here."

He nodded in agreement, glancing at their surroundings. She noticed, and swept her flashlight over the empty street again. Nothing, as expected. As hoped for. "Eddie, mind if we step into a doorway for a bit?" she asked.

Once again he nodded, heading for the nearest stoop as he cradled the device in his hand. When Mattie joined his side he instinctively leaned closer, their shoulders touching in the small shelter of the overhang. "We should check this out," he said, holding up the device. "The signal is getting stronger. It could be a potential problem. If we get to it now, chances are we can nip it in the bud."

"Or," she said, "We can leave it be for now just in case whatever's causing it will rip our faces off and wear them as party masks."

His young face pulled into a grimace that made him look over ten years older. His disdain for the gory details was one the former inspector enjoyed exploiting at every opportunity. Compared to the things they normally saw during a sweep, it actually sounded like a bit of good natured fun.

He turned his big, brown eyes up to her in a slow pout. She knew then she'd lost the argument before it had even begun. "Alright," she said at last. "Send a call in to the office. Let the boys know we're going to be running a bit late tonight."

If she was going to be dragged into another wild goose chase, she might as well make it seem like she was doing it under protest. Part of her swore and cursed the weather as she stepped back into the heavy downpour. But at the same time she could feel the chill of the night's rain retreating as the surge of adrenaline began to pound into her system. Her heartbeat was already in her ears as her partner joined her side, indicating the direction of the energy spike.

The pair of them broke into a light run, but soon the two were running full pelt against the rain as the anticipation of a possible sudden but remarkable death awaited them at their destination.

---

It was a solid eight minutes before the duo managed to reach the affected area off their normal sweep route. They'd come to a stop at the fence of what had once been a bustling shopping centre. Now, it was little more than a steel reinforced tomb. A sanctuary to the unwashed and inhuman alike.

Eddie sighed as he looked up from his device. "This is it. The signal's still here. Pulsing from... it looks like the top floor. Blueprints show it to be the food court." He pocketed the PRM and felt in his pocket for his sidearm.

Mattie nodded towards the building, holding open the chain-link fence she'd managed to cut with her multi-tool. It had been slow going, but the hole in the fence was big enough for the two of them to squeeze through. "Ready?"

"Whatever's in there, it's weak. The PRM's picking up a lower reading," he said. "But the usual suspects might lurking inside. Be ready for anything."

Mattie gave her best reassuring smile. He'd seen that look so many times before, and not once did it bode well for either of them. "Come on then. Time to save the world," she said. "Again," she added sarcastically. Eddie followed her through the gap in the fence as they crept in the dark of night towards their possible certain doom.

Flashlight in one hand, Mattie led the way towards the hellhole that had once easily pried hard earned money from unsuspecting shoppers. Twenty years ago, it had been a bustling, thriving centre of commerce, she was sure. But as they entered the condemned shopping mall, a sense of dread began to take hold on her. Despite this, she pressed on, chalking it to the usual anticipation of the unknown.

Out of the wet, she reached into her coat and pulled out her sidearm. A bulky antique of a weapon. While Eddie grasped one end of what she considered a laser peashooter, she held in her hand the cold steel of a modified Beretta M9. A solid, sturdy, and reliable weapon that didn't rely on fuel cells. Mattie appreciated the simplicity of antique savagery over the high-brow advancements of technology.

And if whatever lay waiting for them chose to make for her jugular, a bullet was more likely to put the bastard down for good than a short laser pulse would.

"I can hardly see in here," Eddie hissed behind her.

She nodded. "Didn't you think to bring your specs?"

"Well... no. It's not like I have bottomless pockets," he replied as they passed a broken window display, the mannequin cracked and broken as it lay hanging halfway out the space where glass should have held it back. He reached into his pocket, removing the PRM device to check it again. Quickly he looked over the blueprints, searching for the shortest route between them and their destination.

**CHAPTER 2**

They had wandered in the dark for the better part of the night. Searching shop by shop and nook by nook for signs of life. But there was only the stench of mold and decay assaulting their senses. Eddie had taken the lead, using the PRM to map out a safe route to what the blueprints called the food court. They had already been forced to retrace their steps and circle around obstacles that looked as if they were freshly made, with passages so narrow neither agent could fit through them.

Eventually, Eddie stopped, putting his arm out to stop his partner. She cast the flashlight around, trying to catch her bearings before shining it on what lay ahead. "Is this the only way up?"

"The only way closest to the food court."

"How close?" she asked as she turned to stand back to back with him, sweeping the beam over the path they had come down. Broken tile made what was once a pristine and smooth floor look like a rocky and twisted terrain. She was thankful she hadn't worn her good shoes for this after all.

He bit his lip, a nervous tick he could never break himself of. "I'm pulling up a map now," he replied.

She paused the flashlight beam a moment before casting it back to the left. She swore she had seen something move. Something pale, but she could not be certain. "You might want to hurry up," she said. "We're not alone."

Eddie nodded, tapping something out. "It looks like we're just below the Victoria Secret."

"Great," she said, trying to keep her voice even. Sarcasm, even if badly timed, had always helped to keep her wits about her. "Don't you go sauntering off to have a looksie in the dressing rooms."

She heard a nervous laugh behind her, and felt Eddie's shoulders shake as he tried to suppress it. "Got any idea for an escape plan?" she asked as he started up the broken escalator.

He chewed his lip again, giving a slow nod despite knowing she would not see him do it. "It's not the best plan, but for a quick run..."

She knew where he was going. She had been thinking the same as they had explored the dank caverns of the shopping centre. They wouldn't have time, she knew, to backtrack the way they had come. They would need the most direct, most simple route possible.

"If we have to jump, I'm shoving you out first."

"Just try to aim for the ground and not me," he said back dryly as she backed up behind him. He heard the click of metal as Mattie released the safety. Slowly they progressed to the landing above. Eddie felt a hand on his forearm as he pocketed the device. His voice was low when he spoke next. "Twenty paces left, then turn right and it should be, barring debris, a straight shot along the side of the eatery."

"And to get back out?" she whispered back.

"The plans show an emergency exit near the restrooms midway down our route. A wall of windows at the far side."

She nodded. "Got it," she replied as she took the first cautious step. Her heart was beating miles a minute. Her senses heightened from the overload of adrenaline pumping through her body. She was aware of the quickness of her own breaths, and the weight of the air on her face and neck. She turned right after approximately twenty paces and cast her light along the wall of their chosen path.

As she took the next step, a large body shoved her against the dust caked counter of a former eatery. When her side connected with the wood, she dropped the light.

It rolled, spinning out of control as Eddie wrestled in the moving beams of light with the snarling beast. Regaining her bearings she planted her feet firmly, her trigger finger poised to pull back and pump a round into the monster. However, she didn't know if she would have a clear enough shot.

The light came to a stop as she heard a wail before the scent of burning flesh assaulted her senses. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as electricity pulsed through the air. A hard thud followed by a hand on her shoulder, squeezing as her partner gasped for breath.

She froze.

"It's me," Eddie whispered. "You alright?"

She nodded slowly. "Just a bruise. You?"

He drew in a ragged breath. "Same," he said.

"Was that-"

"Just the usual. One nasty weevil," he said. His hazel eyes cut to the beam of light. It had come to a rest through a narrow passage. Boxes, chairs, tables. Anything that could be moved had been. And it had all been built up into some sort of wall. It looked to him as if something had torn through, widening the passage that had been so meticulously shaped. Beyond he could see creatures. Snarling and gnashing at the air as they grappled with the same sort that had attacked them.

It would only be a matter of time before they noticed the human intruders. "But something came through here. Looks like we're not the first to notice."

He left her side to retrieve the flashlight, but stopped at the sound of Mattie's voice. "Leave it," she hissed. "Bring any Flashers with you?"

Nodding, he reached into a coat pocket, pulling a small egg shaped item and a pair of goggles. The goggles he pulled on over his head as Mattie searched her own pockets for a pair.

After she had them secured to her eyes, she gripped her Beretta with both hands. "Toss it in and run like hell across. It'll buy us some time. How many do you have on you?"

"Two SFBs and a UVF."

"Good. Save the UVF for last, just in case," she said, giving him a nod. Together, the pair of them edged up to the opening of the passage, their backs pressed against the makeshift wall.

Eddie brought the egg shaped object to his lips, giving it a light kiss before smashing his thumb against a button at the top. A flashing band of red lit up, pulsing slowly before picking up speed and becoming a steady light. "On three," he said softly.

She nodded back to him with a smile before he pivoted into the passageway, throwing the egg into the chaos. Panic overtook him for a few seconds as he thought the Flasher may not go off. He may have tossed in a dud. But his fears were assuaged as bright, blinding light exploded up from the floor, scattering the monsters.

The weevils howled, cowering back in sudden shock as the others, the pale creatures screamed, their wails so high a pitch it shook the walls that had been built up in the food court.

Mattie pushed past her partner, firing her Beretta at any creature, weevil or otherwise that came across her path.

"Come on!" she shouted. "Not much time!"

Eddie followed, his pulsar pistol clutched tightly in his hand as he fished out the PRM from his pocket. "Straight ahead!" he shouted over the sound of semi-automatic gunfire.

The light began to subside as they came to stop at the far end, closer now to the wall of glass. "Shit!" Mattie shouted angrily. "Where is it!" She spun around to look at her partner as he fumbled with his device. "Down!" she ordered.

He crouched low as she came to stand at his side, picking off another creature. Eddie swept the immediate area with the PRM before tugging on her pant-leg. "There!" he shouted, pointing to a stack of tables and chairs. There was a small opening. "It's in there!"

"Then go get it before you get us killed!"

He stayed low, making his way towards the pile. Mattie crept along beside him, providing cover fire as the weevils began to close in on them. One of the others, the creatures came closer, and was swept down by a snarling rogue of a feces eating beast.

Eddie slipped out of sight, into the cover of the chair and table pile. Another egg rolled out of the darkness inside, and within seconds a second flashbomb went off.

Mattie came to the pile, her back to the opening as she quickly reloaded. "Well?!"

"You're gonna kill me!" her partner shouted back at her.

"No, the monsters will kill you. I'll be scraping your guts up off the floor! Now get it so we can get the hell outta here!" She picked off another one.

"I can't move it!"

"Why the hell not?!"

"It's a man!"

**CHAPTER 3**

"What?!"

"He's injured, Mattie! We can't leave him!"

"For Christ's sakes!" she shouted, squeezing off a few more rounds before reaching to tap her earpiece. "Quin. Mattie. We've got a situation here!"

_"I know," _came that surprised American mid-western tone. _"The reading's off the scale. What did you and-"_

"We're pinned, Quin. We need backup!" She fired another round. The weevil spun, falling to the floor on it's ugly face before the body was quickly dragged beneath a table and out of sight. "NOW!" she shouted.

_"Can you abandon the cause of the spike?"_

"What?! Speak up! It's a real party out here!"

_"Can you abandon the tech?"_

"No, it's-" She was knocked off her feet, landing on her back with a crack. The Beretta skidding across the floor, into the shadows, into the unknown where pale creatures lurked. The force of the fall pushed the wind out of her lungs, causing her to take in a large breath of putrid smelling air. She covered her face in futility, anticipating one of the weevils, or even the other strange monsters to come down on her. But the attack never came. They were far too interested in one another to pay her mind. The second Flasher was fading.

Mattie knew she wouldn't have much time before she was going to be vulnerable in the dark again.

"In here! Quick!" she heard her partner shout as Quin's sharp voice called desperately in her ear.

Rolling over, she crawled on her stomach to the pseudo-safety of the furniture pile.

_"Mattie? Mattie are you there?!"_

She pressed her back against the wall, her chest heaving as she tried to control her breathing. Trying not to choke on the mixture of blood and feces in the air.

_"Matilda!"_

"I'm here," she managed to choke out. "Situation from bad to worse. Lost my sidearm, down to one Flasher, and we've got a John Doe down."

She felt Eddie's hand on her arm. "How's it look out there?"

She shook her head. "No way out. It's a slaughter house out there."

"I've run the blueprints again. I can't be a hundred percent sure, but the structural integrity of this level may be compromised by a combination of water erosion and-"

"Lot of good that does us. We've got no charges, no guns, and a dead fish," she said, her breathing slowing for the moment, but her heartbeat a constant pulse, loud as a drum, in her head. "Cut our losses and run for it."

_"Eddie, see if you can send me the data you've collected. I may be able to triangulate your coordinates and jump you to a nearby location."_

"Too risky," Eddie said, and his partner could hear the doubt in his voice. "We could end up stuck in a wall. Or sticking out of the street. Without a proper checkpoint, we can't be sure where we'll end up. And with the spike source..."

"It's the only chance we've got," Mattie said, though she'd still rather follow her plan. "If we're going to do this, we need to do it soon before we're put on the menu. Something out there I swear **ate** a weevil."

Eddie sighed. "Alright, hang on. I'm sending the info now."

Mattie could tell by his tone he was worried. If it had been him making the suggestion, she wouldn't think twice about agreeing to it. He was, after all, the resident genius. Whereas Quin, though good with computers... was far better with the office appliances.

"No, seriously. Hang on. If we separate, he might scramble us beyond recognition," he said.

The pile above them began to shake. From the corner of her eye, she could see the last of the Flasher's light fade into darkness. Feeling around in the dark, she found a hand. Cold and rough. If she weren't so afraid for her life, she'd swear it was the hand of a dead man.

Quin's voice buzzed in her ear again. He was rattling off readings. Numbers and large words she didn't feel the need to understand. Not that she didn't, mind, but her head was killing her now. A combination of the night's action, and the possibility of death no matter if it was friendly accident or weevil attack was not a good prospect.

She felt the nausea first. Then she tasted the bile. Jumping at a checkpoint was never a pleasant experience under normal circumstances. But at least then, it was safe. There were programs and procedures in place to protect her. This... This was beyond unpleasant. This was the epitome of absolute misery.

Clenching her eyes shut as the makeshift shelter began to fall around them, she clutched to the cold hand in her own. She heard Eddie's voice as he groaned. She'd once had her eyes open during this. They were testing out the jumpers, before linking them to the checkpoints. She didn't like what she'd seen.

It was **nothing** like the transporter beams on _Star Trek_, no matter how many times Eddie and Quin had tried to reassure her.

After a few moments, what felt like an eternity, she felt the sickness in her gut recede. There was nothing beneath her. Nothing around her. Sound was little more than a whisper. She did, however, still feel the hand in hers. But it was different somehow. Warmer than before. It was only a slight temperature change, she realized. And most likely a side effect of the transporter jump.

Just when she felt at peace, in perfect harmony in the non-space, the sickness rushed upon her again. She fell with a thud on the hard, flat ground. A splash, no longer a whisper of sound was now a cacophony of noise. She let go of the hand she clung to, and leaned to her right. One hand pressed against the wet cement at the base of the puddle, the other holding her stomach as her mouth opened and a vile, mostly liquid substance forced its way out.

She heard Eddie yelp as an unfamiliar sound came to her ears.

It was a gasp, followed by a long groan. But Mattie ignored it as she continued to suffer the after effects of a jump without a proper landing point.

Eddie, on the other hand, was holding his side beneath his coat as he climbed to his feet.

_"Matilda? Edward? Do you read me?"_

Neither gave a response. Not at first. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Mattie finally opened her eyes, staring down at the dilluted mess circling around one of her wrists. She was able to identify the Chinese take-away she'd eaten for dinner before hitting the streets with Eddie.

Making a mental note never to order shrimp fried rice again, she drew in a deep breath, hoping to clear her lungs and her head. "That was a close one," she said, her throat burning and raw.

Eddie nodded, looking down at their third wheel who had stopped groaning and fallen into sleep. "One thing's for sure," he said, trying to find a bit of humor. "Jack's going to have a field day with this one. He'll never let us forget the naked thing what came from the Rift."

She laughed as she stood up and winced. That was one hard landing. Now that the action was over, her body was feeling every knock and blow. "It was your idea," she replied hoarsely, looking down at the sleeping man. She studied him, looking him over as if he were merely another exotic piece of driftwood from the far reaches of the universe.

"Where are we, anyway?" Eddie asked as he finally was able to look around at their surroundings. "This doesn't look like our usual sweep area."

_"It's not. You're in Splott."_

"...Splott?..." Mattie muttered, tearing her eyes away from the rather handsome reason she'd nearly died this week.

"Quin, why is it **always**Splott with these things?" Eddie snapped. "Every time they malfunction, we end up in the ass end of nowhere!"

_"It's not my fault. You're the one that programmed them... Speaking of, we may have burned out the power cells._

"Great. That's all we need. Broken toys and a Rift streaker," Mattie mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest with a groan. "You **are **comming to get us, right?"


	2. CH4 thru CH6

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION**_

_**CHAPTERS 4-6**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

Twenty minutes. From previous experience, she knew it didn't take anyone from the team twenty minutes to get to Splott. They'd been dumped there, or had any number of things happen in that particular area of Cardiff to know down to the second how long each particular driver took to get there. For her, personally, fifteen minutes on a bad traffic day. For Eddie and Jack, it was almost as if the two were trying to beat one another's time, as if doing so were a special badge of honor.

But certainly, it never took Quin twenty minutes. After all, he knew the city better than anyone else, save Eddie of course. That man's brain may actually be a sponge for all the information it soaked up.

Once the large black van pulled up and came to a stop, she had helped her partner lug the body towards the back end.

"Leave it for me," came that same American voice that had buzzed in their ears earlier in the evening. Mattie didn't bother to argue, let alone look at the man who climbed out, pulling on black gloves to do the work for them. Instead, she went to the front passenger door, pulling it open before Eddie tapped her on the shoulder. "Your jumper. I'll crack it open on the way back and see if I can fix it."

"With a field kit?"

"It's better than nothing," he said as she unceremoniously reached up to her forearm and hit the latch holding the brown leather strap in place. The device fell into his open hand, and his fingers wrapped around it greedily before he opened the side door of the van and climbed in.

"Hey! Are the sedatives really necessary?!" Mattie heard her partner shout as she climbed in and slammed the door shut. "The guy's already knocked out! Probably had his brain fried, too. Not like he's gonna do any harm now."

She was too tired to even look back, closing her eyes as she pressed her cheek against the cold window, glad to be out of the rain for the rest of this night at least.

"Following protocol," Quin replied from the back before slamming the doors at that end shut.

Her breathing had slowed, and the voices of the two men were now little more than background murmurs as she drifted off to sleep.

---

She woke with a start as the driver door was slammed shut. Eddie was climbing out of the back, shouting after Quin's retreating form. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes and glanced back to the open sliding door. "What's going on?"

"Tosser," Eddie snapped angrily. "Won't even offer to get the body out of the back! What do I look like, a bloody mobster!"

She couldn't help but smile sleepily at him before undoing her seat belt. "I'll give you a hand."

"You're worn out," Eddie replied, rounding the back end of the van and opening the doors. "Besides, this is man's work."

She cast him a playful glare, but couldn't hold it for long. "I've been doing this three years longer than you, sunshine. I've dragged around my fair share of bodies, thank you."

"Fine..." he muttered, peeling off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. It was the first time all night she'd been able to see the extent of his injuries. Bruises, ha. Bruises didn't bleed out.

"You go on and get that taken care of," she said, moving through the van carefully. "I'll take this. Besides, I caught a few winks. Hit my second wind, I have." Gingerly, she stepped around the body and slid out the back doors to stand beside her partner. "I'll lock up this bloke and pop round to see you properly."

He reached for his coat, but Mattie was the quicker. "Going to need this to help cover the naughty bits," she said, stealing a glance to the naked man in the back of the van. Eddie groaned, shaking his head as he did so. "Fine. But if anyone asks, I did all the carrying, got it."

Her voice was teasing. "Of course, my big strong manly hero."

He smiled, giving her a light punch on the arm before leaving her to the task at hand.

Getting him out was the easy part, she realized. Getting him to the lift at the end of the warehouse was another matter entirely. If the sedatives had worn off at any point during her travel through the underground base to the vaults, she never noticed between cracking the poor bloke's handsome head of brown hair against the brick work and the constant shoving open of doors.

During this, she wondered briefly, why they didn't install those new, modern doors into their top secret base. After all, who actually turned a knob and pushed or pulled anymore when the doors just slide right open for you?

---

Eddie bit his lip as he poured the alcohol solution down his side. He'd managed to conceal the wound well enough when they were under siege. And even hold his tongue during the trek through Splott to find a dry place to park it until Quin arrived.

Hell, he may have even managed to slip down to the infirmary undetected later on had he not been so tired to have taken off his coat.

"Need a hand?"

He looked up to see Quin standing in the doorway, hot steaming cup of life just sitting on a tray next to a tube of ointment and a small first aid kit.

"No," Eddie muttered under his breath as he wiped at his side, the wound bubbling before he applied the first bandage from the stores he'd taken out. "Not like you'd actually follow through anyway."

"What's your deal?" he snapped.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the king of punctuality was late. Fried the power cells of my ingenious creations-"

"Which are knock-offs of an original design," Quin said calmly. And it was this calmness that only infuriated the techno-whiz even further.

He growled before snatching a wad of gauze from the tray. "There, happy? You helped. Now go do whatever it is you do around here."

Quin gave a weak smile, setting down the tray before taking the bottom of his suit jacket in each hand and giving a gentle tug. It was a subconcious action, Eddie knew. But he could only view it at the moment as pretentious and arrogant. "Get cleaned up. Jack wants everyone in the boardroom to go over the findings from tonight."

The younger man would have spat at the other's nicely tailored retreating back, had he not been using his teeth to rip a piece of surgical tape from the roll.

As promised, Mattie came to the infirmary to check on him, after she'd changed into something clean and dry, he noticed. Briefly, he relayed only the important information to her from the minor altercation with Quin moments before.

She accompanied him back up to the main level, just one below the warehouse. They passed Quin on their way to the boardroom. He seemed to be speaking on the telephone. An antiquated system, they both knew. He waved them on, giving a small smile as he adjusted his mauve colored tie while cradling the receiver between his shoulder and his cheek.

**CHAPTER 5**

He had never been one to stay down for long. Not intentionally. The last thing he remembered clearly was laying out beneath the triple suns on the nude beaches of Tellios 7. Then, the next thing he knew, he was scrambling through the dark in his birthday suit while terrifying creatures tore at his legs. Followed by another darkness, more familiar. And then... a sense of floating lighter than air seconds after the pungent and unforgettable aroma of a weevil den hit his senses.

Groaning, he rolled onto his side. A dull ache throbbed in the back of his neck, at the base of his skull. Where ever he was, he knew he hadn't gotten there on his own. Goosebumps rose on his skin as the chill from the cold, hard stone floor caught him by surprise. How long had he lain there on his back in this hovel? Opening his eyes, he could see by a dim light somewhere above him that the wall his body was facing was made of the same stone as the floor.

_"You're awake."_

He slowly turned his head first, then the rest of his body followed as he moved to lay on his back once again. His vision was blurry, but clearing well enough to make out the organic patterns on the ceiling marking it the same stone as the wall and floor beneath him. This room, he realized, had been cut out of solid rock.

Blue eyes searched for the source of the voice. It was unfamiliar, obviously. And unaccented, giving him no clue as to where, or even when, he might be in the universe.

_"There are clothes and a food packet in the corner."_

His gaze stopped searching the ceiling when his sight cleared enough to make out the black speaker in the center. Mentally, he ran a list of all possible places he could be. After a few long moments, he pushed the thought aside to run on the back-burner of his mind. There were far too many to list, and it was a rather large universe he was, is, in. But he also knew that given time he would find out soon enough. After all, that was the only thing he had an abundance of. Time.

"Remind me to tip the porter when he brings my next meal," he quipped, pulling himself into a sitting position. The ache in his neck was starting to fade, bringing a pleasant sense of relief in its wake. Whatever had happened to him, at some point he guessed his neck had most likely been broken.

_"Water will be brought for you to wash with shortly. We are waiting on results."_

He looked around, taking stock of his surroundings in an attempt to gain information. Trying to work out a plan of escape. But it was hard to do when he couldn't even find indications of a door to this prison cell. "Results of what?" he asked, trying to sound genuinely curious.

He may have thrown on the bait too thick, as there was no answer. He hadn't expected one. But sometimes, depending on how overconfident a captor had become, they might spill if asked the correct leading questions.

As he climbed to his feet he stretched his stiff limbs. Inspecting them. What for, he didn't stop to think. He knew nothing had changed. Nothing ever did. At least, not anything that was not a result of mere age and average wear of many years could do to him. He glanced at the corner where he'd spotted the silver plastic of the food packet sitting atop a smartly folded pile of cloth.

He took his time getting dressed, examining the clothes left for him, searching for just a small scrap of information.

"At least it's not orange," he said to no one, remembering the horrid colored jumpsuits forced upon all UNIT prisoners. He shook his head as he pulled on the gray sweatpants, pushing memories of Toshiko from his thoughts.

The clothes themselves were plain, a somber stormy gray. To match the sweatpants, a plain sweatshirt in the same dull color. The tag on the inside, he noticed, was in Arabic. Not that he cared all that much as to the washing instructions for the garment. But it told him at least that he was dealing with Earthlings. Whether he was on the planet Earth, or elsewhere with that particular species was still up for discussion. Though, it had narrowed down his list of choices considerably. Not much, but enough.

Once dressed, he sat with his back against the wall, opposite of where he had found the clothes and food. Logic told him the exit must be close to that point in the cell. The meal pack was on the floor beside him, uneaten for the moment, but thoroughly picked through and examined.

---

"You look like-"

"I'm covered in Raxillian afterbirth. Don't talk to me," she said angrily as she crossed the main offices, heading towards the lift to the lower levels. "Don't," she repeated firmly when Eddie opened his mouth to comment. "I'll be in the shower. I hate this job."

Eddie rolled his eyes, swiveling his chair back to face his monitors. "I've finally got the results from those scans in!" he called after her, only to hear the lift doors grind shut in reply.

A sigh, coupled with a shake of his head before he pulled the headphones on, the plastic band resting behind his neck as he worked. Aside from the numerous scans he'd been ordered to run on their new guest, Torchwood had come into possession of a tablet. A tablet in a language unknown to Earth. Though it was not a pressing matter, he chose to work on translating it in his spare time. So far, he'd discovered it was a list of ingredients. Eddie hoped that the rest of the tablet may be instructions on how to use them, or what they were for.

He hoped against all hope that the list may turn out to be a recepie, one he could adapt in the kitchens. He did always like to subject the team to one of his experiments.

Eddie toiled away for what felt like hours, his fingers typing in rhythm to the music blasting in his ears. The translator programs running at full tilt while he catalogued the results from the most recent scans, placing them into an order that even their oh-so-fearless leader would be able to comprehend.

"Well well. Look who's a busy bee today."

The twenty-one year old nearly jumped in his skin as his headphones were yanked off his ears. His chair spun around furiously, his mouth open to snap at Quin, who seemed to exist only to scare and torment the poor boy. But the angry words that had been about to fly and color the air blue were halted when he looked upon the dark, smiling face staring back at him with a kind twinkle in her eye.

"M... M.... Madame Milligan!" he exclaimed as he began to recover. "W.."

She laughed, brushing a tuft of graying hair from her face. "Let me guess, Jack didn't say I was coming, did he?"

Eddie shook his head, pushing his chair back against the edge of his workstation. "W...What brings you down here? It's not yet Christmas holiday. And I thought Luke was supposed to-"

"Jack asked me to come," she said, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. "You're just so cute when you're flustered."

He turned his head to look from her shoulder, down her arm to her hand on his own shoulder, and shrugged it off. "Jack's not here. He's gone out to Ground Zero following a lead on a Karvakian glider," he said. "He thinks that if there's enough of the ship left, I may be able to augment the computer systems and use them in scanning for inorganic life life forms. The Karvakians were at one time vicious and bitter enemies of the Cybermen, and had developed technology capable of-"

"Alright alright," the old woman said. "I'll just wait for him in his office."

"Ma'am, can I- I mean, if it's not-"

"Go ahead."

"Well, Madam-"

"How many times do I have to tell you, call me Martha. Madame makes me sound old."

He smiled nervously and gave a small nod. "Well, M... Martha. Why are you here, if it's not much trouble."

She ran her tongue along the front of her teeth, behind her lip. He watched her closely, trying to divine a deeper meaning behind such an unimportant action. If Eddie didn't know any better, and he knew everything there was to know, he'd guess he was about to be fed a line. A line that wouldn't quite add up to the evidence he would soon dig out based on what he heard.

"You're a smart man, Eddie," she said at last, putting her hands into her pockets. "You'll puzzle it out. Now, if you would be so kind as to send Quin in with a cup of tea, that'd be brilliant."

"Sorry Mad... I mean, Martha. He's gone with Jack. You know those what those two are like out in the field. Probably won't be back for a few hours yet so long as things go smoothly. I could fetch Mattie if you like? She popped down for a shower a while ago. Probably hopped over to the firing range for a bit."

She gave a small shake of her head. "That won't be necessary. A glass of water will be fine. I need to cut back on the caffeine anyway."

"Yes ma'am," he said, watching her go in the direction of the boardroom before veering off into one of the side rooms. When she was out of sight, he sighed in relief before glancing up at the surveillance feed. Their _guest_ was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling and twiddling his thumbs. For a moment, Eddie could swear the man was staring straight at him.

Checking the time, he turned his attention back to his tasks. Concentration was broken, his playlist was on shuffle, and the head director had just made an impromptu visit to Cardiff all the way from Glasgow. This couldn't possibly end well.

He reached out and hit a button on his keypad. "Jack, it's Eddie. Might want to try and wrap that up quick as you can yeah. Milligan just came in and scared the beejeebus out of me."

**CHAPTER 6**

"Get that thing to the cells!" came that untraceable American accent. The  
voice was strong, booming through the Hub as its owner raced through the workspace. Eddie jumped from his chair, running to aid Quin with the latest acquisition.

"And for the love of Darwin," the voice snapped. "Don't get near the  
mouth!"

There was a harsh slam of a door. Quin groaned under the weight of the  
creature he was left to carry alone. Eddie grabbed what he assumed to be an arm, or at least an arm-like limb and hoisted it over his shoulder. "Where'd you two find this one?"

He caught the green glare from the other side of the creature's oversized head. "The Karvakian crash site at Ground Zero," he replied. His words clipped and hurried.

"This is a Karvakian?"

"No," Quin snapped as they managed to drag the body through the doors of the larger cargo lift that bypassed the infirmary and recreational levels. "Where the hell is Matilda?"

Eddie winced as he shifted the weight he carried long enough to squeeze into the lift with him and the creature. "This thing really stinks, don't it?" He received no response as they rode in the awkward silence down below the earth.

---

She looked up when the door was flung open with such force she thought it might bounce back and strike the brunette man that came through it in the face. Said man had quickly unbuttoned his shirt, and was pulling it off as he went straight for a filing cabinet.

"What's wrong?" the older woman asked instinctively as he tried to both undress and rummage through a filing drawer.

"Need to change," he said. "Gungan vomit. Acid."

Her eyes went wide as she rose from the seat and backed up against the wall. "Okay, I seriously-"

"It'll be fine," he said. "Just... don't touch the fabric." He pulled off the shirt and flung it into the waste paper bin at the side of the desk. Martha shouted in surprise and edged along the wall further away from the desk and the man.

He had a replacement shirt in hand. A soft, pastel blue. Slightly wrinkled. This he sniffed before offering it to the woman. "Does this smell foul to you?"

"Jesus Christ just put your shirt on and get rid of... whatever it is that... that-"

"Oh! Water! PERFECT!" He snatched the glass of water Martha had previously been drinking from off the desk. Quickly, he leaned forward and in a rather awkward way of doing so, poured the water on his back.

"Oh god yes... That hit the spot." He stood up straight and beamed at her proudly before peering into the bin. "Oo... Just in time too. Look at it... blue cotton soup."

She sighed as she nervously moved back to her previous position. Stealing a few seconds to peer into the bin herself, she wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "We'll need to get Quincy in here to deal with that properly before it eats a hole through the floor."

"Nah. It doesn't eat through steel," he said sniffing the shirt once again. "Seriously, does this smell foul? All I can smell right now is burning-"

"No need for details, Jack," she said, holding up her hand.

The young man shrugged and quickly had the shirt undone and pulled on. But he left it open for the time being. His abdomen wasn't particularly of note. He was well toned, but not spectacularly so. It was perfectly... average, in all sense of the word.

Martha shook her head once again, turning the computer monitor so that the young man could see the display. Yet another gray-scale video relay of the man they kept locked in the basement below.

The man's face pulled into a smile, his shaggy brown hair, matted down with grime and sweat, was scratched at before being abandoned in a wild and unkempt fashion. "Yeah..." he said. "I knew I forgot about something..."

Her brown eyes stared at him, nay, glared. Her expression, before having been annoyed and disgruntled had fallen now to solid steel. He had seen that expression on the 50-something woman's face more than enough times to know what it meant. "Close the door," she said sternly.

He swallowed hard, giving a nod before turning and doing as he was told.

There wasn't a lot of things in the world that Jack Harborne, director of Torchwood Cardiff was afraid of. But a very disgruntled Martha Jones Milligan was one of the very few.

---

Eddie was standing doubled over, trying to catch his breath. The air in the cell block wasn't particularly fresh, but it was a slice of heaven compared to breathing near that monster.

Quin punched in the final security codes to lock the cell. That last stretch down the corridor of cell block 41 was rough work. The sedatives had finally worn off, and the creature was constantly trying to vomit on them. Though, it was having trouble since Eddie had mistakenly taken the Gungan's probiscuous snout to be an arm. Needless to say the young man had been more than surprised to find that there was a very foul, very dangerous substance spraying out from the appendage draped over his shoulder.

"Are you injured?" Quin said, examining his suit jacket for any stray droplets of the deadly bodily fluid.

Eddie checked himself over before shaking his head and standing upright. "No, I think I'm good," he replied. After the spray had begun, his shirt had been ripped off. Thankfully, he'd remembered to wear something underneath, thinking that if the day was slow enough, he might pop down to the company gym.

"You've got a bit of red on you."

He looked down at his shirt, then squirreled his head around to try and get a look at his back. The white undershirt seemed fine, if only slightly dirty now. Until he noticed the spreading red patch on his side where he had sustained injuries a few days before. The shopping mall incident.

"Let's go up and I'll properly dress that for you. It's probably infected by now."

"No. I'm fine."

"Look, you just helped me carry that thing down here. Let me make sure you don't die of infection because you were careless. Unfortunately for us, it would be hard to replace you."

The younger smirked proudly. "Really? Coming from you... well..."

Quin narrowed his eyes as he looked at him. "If it's any consolation, a little of me died inside when I said that. Now come on." He turned on his heel rather robotically it seemed, and headed for the nearest lift. Eddie was thankful it wasn't the cargo lift again. He was sure it would take the office manager a week or more to get the stench out of that small space.

---

After cleaning herself up numerous times in the guest suites showers, Mattie had indeed gone to the firing range. It was her recreational relaxation. The only thing she could count on to help get her thoughts in order after a disturbing mission. As she managed to put the sight of an alien giving birth, which reminded her sickeningly of when milk begins to curdle after it's been in the ice box too long, other things began to bubble towards the forefront of her mind.

Namely, the bloke they locked up in the vaults. She'd been too tired that night when she and Eddie were debriefed on the situation. Too tired and worn out to question both Quin's behavior and Jack's... Well, he was always a strange one. That was usually a good thing. But he was also usually much more informative about the creatures, be they humanoid or otherwise, that were hauled in.

This time though, something struck the young inspector as odd. She may have been horrid with names and remembering birthdays. She may have been shite at remembering her father's special dressing recipe that he only used during Christmas holiday. But if there was one thing she had managed to master over the years, and had helped her tremendously as a police officer, it was that she had a knack for faces. She not only had a knack for them, she remembered every single one she had ever seen in her lifetime.

Up until the shopping mall incident, she thought this talent was foolproof. She thought it was her greatest asset. But now she questioned herself.

As she fired off half a clip at the target across the shooting range, she realized why the man in the basement presented such a headache to her. Though she had never met this man before, never seen him before, she knew his face. Where from, she could only guess. But she had seen it somewhere, somewhen.

And then, as she slammed the side of her fist against the button to retract the line on which the cut-out weevil was attatched it struck her. Her second day in Cardiff as part of the team. She'd been handed a thick volume stuffed with handwritten notes and photographs and old typed manuscripts.

That volume, she knew, was somewhere in the vaults. And inside it was the answer she now sought.


	3. CH7 and CH8

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION**_

_**CHAPTERS 7&8**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

She bit her lip, a nervous tick she'd had since she was a wee girl. Pressed against the stone wall, she waited until the voices of her comrades had passed. She had nearly given up when finally she heard Quincy offer first aid. She poked her head out of the passage leading to the service lift where she had gone to hide when she heard the voices up ahead, and looked around. The coast it seemed was quite clear.

There was nothing between her and the stairwell to the lower levels. To the storage where all the old records, or rather the ones that had survived the incident at the bay two decades and a half prior, were housed along with other odds and ends.

She crept down the corridor, looking over her shoulder. A foul stench hit  
her senses, causing her to halt in her steps for a moment. She nearly turned back it was so awful. But no, her curiosity was far too strong. Her need to know who that bloke was, and why she remembered his face yet never knew him was gnawing at her thoughts. No, she must press on and uncover the truth.

Stepping carefully around the puddles of hissing, smoking, and foul fluids, she headed for the stairwell, and when she reached it, took the first step down into the cold darkness that was the Crypt.

---

"I thought you might want to visit your friend first," he said. "After all, it's  
been what? 25? 26 years?"

"I will. But there's a few things we need to go over. Firstly, your team. How much do they know?"

He crossed his arms as he sat on the corner of his desk. "Mulder and Scully know something big is going down, but other than that, they don't suspect much else than the usual Rift problem."

"And Quincy?"

He smiled. "He's a walking set of the complete Encyclopedia Britannica. He  
knows exactly what's going on. But he's kept his distance so far. Good thing, too."

The old woman raised a brow. "Why's that?"

He laughed. "Remember what happened after the graduation ceremony at the police academy?"

She nodded, giving an exasperated sigh as she quite easily recalled the newly named Officer Harborne decking the Captain after he'd made a pass at then office temp Quincy after the ceremony. It was not a pretty sight when the Doctor had to break them apart. "Good point. Even though it seems that hasn't happened for him yet, it doesn't hurt to be careful."

He glanced at the monitor, watching the man who paced the stone lined cell like a lion. "But we're not here to shoot the breeze," he said. "Let's talk shop."

"Quite right." She pulled out a file from the stack on the desk. She held it  
out to him. He took it and flipped it open, skimming through the papers inside. "I  
assume you've read standing order 12."

"S'why I contacted you. You're the only one left from back then who knows him, so with my team of Scoobies what they are, I'm going to need a bit of help in the early stages of this one." He set the folder down and picked up a rubber band ball from the basket of collective junk next to his desk lamp. He tossed it in the air a few times before speaking again. "We're going to have to deal with a few issues before we can let him out though. Security, names, lodging," he said, trailing off.

"And Quincy."

The rubber band ball bounced back down from the ceiling, landing in his hand as he turned ever so slightly and smiled that mischievous smile of his. "Bingo."

---

He sucked air in through his teeth as Quincy exposed the injury to air. "Do you have to be so da-"

"Just as I thought," the American said, his green eyes looking out from over a white surgical mask. "Infected. Lie back as best you can."

"Oh no. I'm not falling for that one again. Besides, what would Jack say?  
You haven't even bought me dinner first."

"Shut up and lie back," he said, putting a gloved hand on the young man's chest and gently pushing him down. Eddie hissed again, this time at the cold of the steel table.

When Quincy was sufficiently satisfied, he left Eddie's side to retrieve the  
surgical scanner. "I'm going to take a few pictures. I'm sure you've cracked, if not  
broken something in there. The area is far too tender to have just been a flesh wound."

"And who says you can't pass off as a decent doctor," Eddie said  
nervously, trying to keep calm. He hated doctors. Hell, he didn't like nurses either. And this... office boy was neither, Eddie knew. In his mind, this could have only spelled disaster.

"Maybe I should just pop over to Cardiff A&E for a bit."

"Nonsense. Now keep still, otherwise I may accidentally fry your central  
nervous system."

"Really reassuring there, Quin."

"I do my best," he said, reaching down to push Eddie's head back down on the table with a pang as head met steel before attaching the instrument to the apparatus overhead. He pulled it lower, centering it over Eddie's pelvis area before switching it on.

"Are you sure-"

"I said keep still. Unless you never want to have children."

That seemed to clam the younger man up. And behind the white surgical  
mask, Quincy was grinning like the cat that caught the mouse.

---

Mattie moved slowly in the darkness, sweeping the torchlight she'd gotten from the shelf at the bottom of the stairwell across her path. Checking the labels on each row of shelves. On each passageway.

Already she had gotten turned around. There were, thankfully, maps every ten corridors. The LED screens lit up like an open sign on a chip shop in the middle of the night. She'd stopped by to check them at every opportunity to ensure she was going in the right direction. She had only been in the Crypt a few times before. Each time with Quincy leading the way to their destination.

The first time, she remembered as she found herself in the section devoted to alien artifacts, had been when she and Mikal had confiscated a time ring from a reporter. Miss Jackson seemed to believe that the time ring, in the right hands, could do much good in the world. Jack had sent her with Quincy to catalogue it, and seal it away.

When she remembered the second time, the last time, she was standing in front of a large door with a slit cut into the stone at eye level. The stone, she knew, was not real stone. It merely gave off the appearance. It was actually a very durable, very strong alloy developed by the team in Glasgow. A bunch of squints, they were. She remembered clearly the day she and Quincy had discovered what lay inside that vault. That Crypt.

A man... But little else. A prisoner of the former regime. Frozen in time. Never to awaken. It sent chills down her spine as she stood on her toes to peer  
into the room on their eternal prisoner. His skin, she could see, was still that same eerie gray. That time, Jack had personally come down with them, taking great care to handle the cryo-chamber as gently as possible. Why they kept him, she didn't want to think about. Why he had been frozen to start with, she didn't dare puzzle out.

Some things from Torchwood's dark age were better left in the shadows of the Crypt.

She shined the light to see the label on the door. Gray. She was in the G's now. She'd strayed far from her intended path. Checking the nearest map, she plotted out a route to the E's. The volume, if she remembered correctly, had been marked E, for Exposure.

**CHAPTER 8**

She felt the chill of the Crypt in her bones. The feelings of isolation seeming to crawl across her skin. The hairs on her neck stood up as she searched for the right shelf. Why this was not kept in the library, she wasn't sure. But whatever was inside it must have been rather sensitive information.

She stopped, shing the torch over another line of labels. Ea-Eb. An entire  
shelf titled simply "Eccleston, Christopher" caught her a little off guard. Slow and steady steps now, Mattie made her way down the passage. Em-En seemed to stretch on forever, with varying numbers after each box and item.

"Foolish girl, comming down here," she muttered to herself. "You know better than to wander around on your own in the mysterious basement-basements." After a moment, she shook her head and sighed. "Great, now I'm talking to myself..."

She had nearly reached the end of the passage when she found what she was looking for. A single box on a shelf marked Ex-Ez. One of the older boxes, she noticed, that the more dangerous items tended to hide away in. She opened her mouth and put the back end of the torch between her lips, nearly gagging at the taste of the cold metal. Both hands free, she wiped them on her shirt before reaching up for the box, trying her best to keep the torch aimed at the shelf.

It was heavier than she had initially thought. How Quincy was able to lift these things regularly she would love to know. It felt like dead weight. Dead weight, attached to living weight, that just didn't want to move because it was tied to a rather large boulder.

Once the box was down, she took the torch from her mouth and wiped her lips on the back of her arm. She'd never get that taste out. Not unless she wanted to spend a fortune on breath-mints. She knelt down to examine the seal, trying to find the lock. She was presented with something she hadn't counted on.

One of those older model iPhones had been sodered onto the outside.

"...Great," Mattie mumbled, leaning back to rest on her haunches and groan. "Of all the days to find another of Mad Eddie's toys..."

---

"Two lowest ribs broken, third one up cracked. And you've been walking around how long like this?"

"Almost a week?"

"I think that's a new personal record for you," Quincy said, removing the gloves and dropping them into the wastebasket.

Eddie struggled to get his shirt back on, finding the large plaster-ish cast Quincy had attached to him quite difficult to navigate around. "What exactly IS this.. thing and how did you get it on me?"

Quincy pulled the mask down, flashing a big and obviously fake smile. His eyes, bright and green were alight with amusement despite the seemingly forced grin on his face. "It's a self-replicating plastic resin confiscated from the Freyurian ambulance cruiser that crash landed in Moscow last year. I'd been meaning to test it out, but was never given the opportunity."

"I am NOT your guinea pig!" Eddie shouted angrily as he flailed the only arm that wasn't bent and encapsulated in this alien plastic resin while in an awkward position. "You have no right to experiment on me while I am unconscious!"

"Since I'm not a licensed surgeon," Quincy started as he reached for the glass jar just beyond Eddie's line of sight. "And taking you to A&E with some sort of alien creature trying to wriggle it's way through your upper abdomen would have been a very bad idea. I think I did remarkably well under the circumstances."

The young man's eyes went wide as his skin went pale. "You... That..."

"Careful not to faint again."

"I didn't faint!"

Quincy laughed, setting the jar with the wriggling creature swimming around inside on the table where Eddie could see it, he removed the white coat he had put on while the other was unconscious. "I turned on the scanner, and you were out like a light. Your mother must have hated taking you to the doctor as a boy."

"Bastard."

"Broad spectrum antibiotics. General pain killers. And light duty until your next check up, Mr. Williams," Quincy said, his tone rather amused. "And don't forget to secure your new pet in the incinerator."

He left the computer specialist in the infirmary, still struggling to get his shirt back on.

---

"So it's settled then," she said. "Send everyone home. I'll handle the Captain."

"Martha, are you sure-"

"And you're going home too. When was the last time you saw a decent bed, Commander?" she asked with a knowing look. The three days worth of stubble told her all she needed to know. "I'll be fine. He's an old friend. A little out of touch with time at the moment, but what else can you expect when a man's been locked in a featureless cell for nearly a week?"

The young man laughed lightly. "Well, Mattie wanted to put up a poster of a cat clinging to a tree branch with the words Hang in there! in big hot pink letters, but I felt it was a bit much."

She shook her head, reaching up to clasp him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. "Gather the troops, and then go home Jack. At least take a shower and shave. Catch up on your programmes. Maybe actually spend a nice evening out with Quin, yeah?"

"What if the Rift throws out another ugly? Or Cardiff suddenly decides to go Belgium?"

Martha steeled her expression, giving him a stern look. "I said take the day off. Forget about this place for just 24 hours... No, make that 48 hours. If anything goes wrong, I'm here, remember. And so is the Captain."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about," he said, then his face lit up in worry. "What if there's a banana shortage and everyone's left with only pears at the market and-"

"Jack, seriously? Now you're just grasping at straws. Go, before I have to throw you out myself."

The young man sighed, giving his shaggy brown hair a scratch. Martha could literally watch as that overly expressive face began to pout, causing worry lines to exaggerate immensely. He was far too young for such a deeply saddened face. But they had both agreed that it would be best for everyone if she handled this, at least the initial stages, alone.

"Oh, alright. Before you go, have Quincy make arrangements for the Captain's lodging. And some suitable clothing as well. You know what he likes."

"Don't you think that's a bit... dated? I mean, it was beyond retro 25 years ago. Now it's just-"

"Don't argue with me boy. The more accommodating we seem, the more likely he is to stick around. That man is a rolling stone, kiddo. And believe me, with the momentum he's got going for him, you're lucky he's slowed down at all."

Mumbling under his breath, she watched him go. Her stern expression faded into a bemused smile as she turned to go in the opposite direction to find her old, dear friend.

---

Mattie had taken a while to try and crack the makeshift lock on the case. On her third try, she was met with success. "When all else fails," she said as she smiled victoriously. "Try using _Terrifying Pertwee_." Carefully she lifted open the top of the case, shining the light in. The thick volume was leaning against the inside of its prison, pictures and pages scattered around the bottom of the case. She had wanted to take the whole volume with her to examine closer, but knew she could not take it from the Hub for the tracking device mounted into the spine of it.

Instead, she shifted her weight so that she may use one of her thighs as a sort of table to balance the thick water and fire damaged tome on. Carefully she removed it from the case, more pictures and papers falling from its innards. Cautiously, she opened the front cover.

The last she had seen of this book, it had been shoved into her hands by Jack with the instructions to put it in the pile to go downstairs. Though it was her second day on the team, second day in Cardiff even, she was just as green as the others seemed to be. The first job was to sort through the crates and trucks sent from Glasgow. Put them away in the basement. She'd been left in the warehouse with Patricia to keep sorting the piles as Mikal and Jack went down below to set up the basements.

She's snuck a peek then before moving on to other tasks. But now she had the time to look closer. Her curiosity getting the best of her, Mattie did not look for the picture she needed right away. Instead, she cautiously pried apart pages that stuck together. Trying to read the smeared handwritten notes with little success. There was a page near the front that had been torn at the top right corner. The Preface page was jagged at the edges where fire had tried to claim it.

Most of the pictures so far were too damaged for her to make them out clearly. Taken on the old kind of film that her mum and dad had littered around the house. Why they didn't convert them to holos, she didn't understand.

She kept turning the pages, reading what she could. Devouring the words as if they fed a hunger she was not previously aware of. A hunger to know more, to solve this puzzle. She stopped when she reached a memo, the tape holding it in place dried and cracked but still clinging for all it was worth. She held the light closer to the page, looking over it carefully. The edges of the paper seemed warped, but not in the way water or fire may have done. No, there was something heavier than the paper itself attached there. The markings looked like a familiar indention.

"Paperclips?" she asked herself in the darkness, then shook it off. The things held in place may have fallen to the bottom of the case. May have been lost over the years. May have... She didn't want to think about it.

She skimmed the memo at first, but then stopped and looked back up at the top of the page, reading aloud to herself in disbelief. "From: 'Jack'," she said. Reading further, she read the recipients, and her heart beat faster.

Then, she saw the handwriting. Crisp and dark. Carefully written and antique in lettering style. She hadn't seen something like it except in history books. But it was also one she recognized easily. She saw it every day. Jack, their leader wrote like that. And it always gave her headaches trying to decipher it. She glanced around, making sure she was still alone, then ripped the page out, setting it aside as she continued searching through the volume.

She found other things as well that didn't seem to belong. At least, not at first. The closer she got to the center of the book, the clearer and less damaged things began to be. But there were spaces, her keen investigative eye noticed, where the pages had yellowed with age yet there were crisp, perfectly shaped white rectangles and squares. Far too many for the debris in the bottom of the case to account for. "Someone's been through this already," she said to herself, realizing she wasn't the first to do a little more digging into the history of their fine and well organized... well, organization.

She stopped to admire a photograph of one man in particular. She didn't know his name. Probably would never know even if she had tried looking for it in the book. His mouth struck her as thin and cruel. His face a bit sharp on the eyes as well. But he was, in her opinion, quite a handsome bloke. But the smile she gave back at the picture was grim. If he were in this book, it meant he worked for Torchwood in the past. And if that were true, he was quite surely dead in his prime.

She continued searching, removing bits and pieces as she went along until she found what she was looking for. A photograph of her parents on their wedding day. She remembered when she had first seen it that it most definitely should not have been in there. She only recalled it now because it looked so alien to her. Another one just like it hung in the foyer at her childhood home. Larger, and now, she knew for sure, doctored.

In the far left side, almost cut from the shot, was the man. That man she had dragged down to the vaults. The man she and Eddie had risked life and limb to rescue when in her opinion they should have left him for dead.

Perhaps, what struck her as most eerie was that the man... looked exactly the same in the photo. Only clothed, obviously.

_"Alright girls, and Matilda,"_came her commander's voice in her ear. She fell backwards in surprise, having been so absorbed in her task that she had forgotten her surroundings. The half-gasp, half-squeal she unleashed echoed off the walls and down the passages. She covered her mouth and tried to will her heartbeat to slow down.

_"Pack your bags and meet me in the warehouse."_

_"You sound far too chipper, sir,"_was Quincy's reply over the comms.

Next, she heard Eddie's voice, a bit muffled and strained. _"I'm going to need a little help here, Quincy,"_ he spat the name out bitterly and with as much venom as she had ever heard it.

Regaining her bearings, she ripped the photograph from the book and put it on her pile of curiosities. "Where's your location?" she asked, tapping the earpiece with one hand while putting the book back into the case. "Infirmary?"

_"How'd you-"_

"Lucky guess," she replied, snapping the case closed. "I'll give you a hand. Let me sign back in my Beretta first."

_"Sure thing, Matts."_

Their commander's voice came over the line of communication again. _"Alright alright. Less flirting, more moving."_

---

Captain Harkness lay on his back, his hands folded behind his head. He had tired of pacing some time ago. He'd gotten annoyed by his own humming. And it was another four hours until whoever had the night shift would play music nonstop for him to listen to.

Whoever the night shift was, he was grateful for them. Though it wasn't to his own personal tastes, it was better than listening to himself think...

But the voices that came over those radio waves and were far too chipper for the middle of the night had also given him one of the most important clues of all. He wasn't just with humans, he was on Earth. And out of all the cities in all the countries on the face of that dust ball hurtling through time and space he could have landed in...

"Welcome back to Cardiff, Captain," came a sweet voice that to the Captain time could never dim. It came echoing into his cold cell moments after the panel in the wall to his right slid back and open.

"Wonders never cease," he said, a smile creeping onto his face. "When all hope seems lost, I hear the voice of the Nightingale." He opened one eye to look at her, his brow raising as he saw that age had taken its toll on her far more than her voice had let on. "Excuse the mess. I wasn't expecting visitors." His tone was dark, bitter even.

The old woman's smile back towards her old friend was the most genuine she had given in many years. "You're supposed to say, 'Wow Martha, you haven't changed a bit!' But I guess that will have to do. Now get up, you're coming with me."

He turned his head as she spoke to get a better look at her. At least, he concluded, that she had aged gracefully despite the horrors he knew she had lived through, and those that he did not.

"Come now, I'm not getting any younger. We've got the whole place to ourselves." He pushed himself up onto his elbows and blinked at her before giving her a secret smile.

"Did you just come onto me?"

"You're kidding yourself. Now get your lazy butt up mister."

"Yes ma'am," Captain Jack replied as he got to his feet faster than she could say _I'm still married._

* * *

A/N - Unlike parts 1 and 2, part 3 is only two chapters long. We did this because we didn't want a random chapter of fluff to appear out of nowhere. So, Chapter 9 will begin part 4, which will be nothing but fluffy goodness. n.n


	4. CH9 and CH10

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**ALSO!!! We know NOTHING about the UK's rail system. So, if we're wrong, please do correct us. We did do a bit of research, but it may be outdated or inaccurate. Thanks!**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
**__**CHAPTERS 9&10

* * *

**_

**CHAPTER 9**

She was in his eyes beautiful first thing in the morning. Her dirty blonde hair disheveled. That single tuft of dark brown hanging in front of her face. Sometimes curled, sometimes knotted. She would always straighten it back out before heading off to work ahead of him.

She was everything a woman should be. Fit, quirky, and drop dead gorgeous. He envied her for what was naturally bestowed on her. He even coveted her perfect brown eyes despite having a matching set of his own.

For all his jealousy, Eddie admired his big sister. Confidence flowed off her in waves, and she herself seemed to be oblivious to her own genetic charms. He would have done anything for her, just to see her smile.

But for this moment, as she staggered across their kitchen, she groaned as if she were dying, and fumbled around for an empty beaker for her coffee. "Mornin," she managed to get out as she sloshed the hot black liquid into the ceramic cup, spilling more of it on the counter than actually pouring it where it was intended.

One, two. Three. Four large spoonfuls of sugar, followed by a creamer cube followed as she rubbed at her eyes with one hand. The other stirring the contents of the beaker together into a liquid form of caffeinated crack.

"Mornin," he called back, looking up from the computer. He was still working on the tablet. Though unable to bring the actual artifact home with him, he had made some high-res scans to use for comparison to other languages for a possible similarity. He had already nixed the recipe idea, having realized that it was indeed a list, but not of ingredients to his knowledge. Certain syllables repeated far too often to be a list of foodstuffs. His new theory was that it had been a list of names, dates, and deeds. What for, he hadn't a clue. But it was something that needed to be figured out.

She mumbled something at him in passing as she continued her morning ritual. Sloshing back the coffee as she looked through the scarcity of the fridge. Chinese take-away from over a week before. Something orange and green and possibly blue had made a little colony of.. well... something orange and green and possibly blue in the back on the third shelf down.

"I think the bagels are still good," Eddie said, trying to sound hopeful. "And if you scrape the furry stuff off the cream cheese-"

"Bagel..." Mattie mumbled, sounding as if she might be drooling at the thought.

Moving with cup in hand towards their breadbox, she stopped, looked down at her cup, and turned to Eddie. "What time is it?"

He checked the clock in the corner of his screen. "Quarter past five," he said.

"Morning?"

He nodded. She groaned, putting her cup down and starting back for her bedroom. "Oi!" Eddie called after her. "Still on for London today?!"

"In an hour," she grumbled back, shutting the door behind her and crawling back under the soft, warm sheets she saw far less often than she'd liked.

Eddie sighed, using his good hand to scratch at the edge of his plastic cast. Unlike his dear sister Mattie, his sleep the night before was far less sound. The painkillers Quincy had given him did the trick alright. They dulled the pain down to a manageable level. They had knocked him out cold for a few hours.

But those few hours when his mind should have been resting with the body had been the strangest couple of hours he'd had for a long time. And he'd had some strange ones in the last year and a half. It had spooked him far more than he would admit.

The tablet would get his mind off things. Keep his mind focused on a single, inane but obsessive task. And keep thoughts of a voluptuous moonlight skinned temptress from his consciousness.

- - -

As promised, Mattie rose an hour later at 6:15 in the morning. Far more refreshed than she had been the first time she had crawled out of her warm bed. She groaned at first, tasting a syrupy yet coffee flavor in her mouth. What the hell had she been drinking?

Sitting up, she stretched and then turned to shut off her alarm. Her hand skimmed over the ear-pod beside the lamp before pulling back again. "Maybe not today..." she said to herself, throwing back the blankets and getting out of bed with a yawn. First thing was first. She needed to call her mum. Let her know she was coming to London to stay the night. Maybe two.

"Mattie!" came a shout from beyond her door. With a sigh, she pulled up her sweatpants and ventured outside of her bedroom.

"What?" she snapped groggily before softening her harshness with a gentle smile.

Eddie was waving her over. Had he moved from that spot at their small kitchen table since her half-conscious coffee run an hour earlier? Yawning and stretching her arms once again, she went to him and leaned over his shoulder. "What am I looking at?"

"You left a pile of papers on the counter last night. I've only just now had a chance to look over them."

"You..." she turned her face to look at him, a mortified expression in her eyes. "You saw them?"

"Hard to miss when you leave them out in the open like that."

"I can explain-"

"Look," Eddie insisted, pointing at the screen. "I've fed this into the facial recognition program. Something about it didn't peg me as normal."

"It's mum and dad's-"

"I know. And we've seen it a thousand times. At first, I just glanced at it. Then I saw him," he said, still pointing at the screen. She let her eyes drift back to what he was showing her. He spoke on and on at length about whatever it is nerds talked about before she heard a name.

"Wait... say that again."

"I found it cross referenced to the tablet I've been working on, and-"

"No no. Before that."

"Which part."

She smacked him in the back of the head, causing him to yelp. "Hey! Don't hit the cripple!"

"What, who did you say before."

He took a deep breath, calling up page after page of information. "That guy, he's everywhere, but he's nowhere. Like some kind of ghost. Most of it all drops off about 25 years ago. Before you and me were ever born. But then..." he said, using the small joystick in the center of his keyboard to mouse over another picture.

"This was taken in 2018. Nine years after the last sighting. Roughly nine or ten after mum and dad got married."

"Is that... But the bloke didn't look that old."

"It's him alright. Captain Jack Harkness. Unless there's a glitch in my system, and therefore the Hub's systems." He turned in his seat as best he could, looking at his sister as she stared at the man on the screen. "This is why you're really going to London, isn't it?"

"Eddie," she said slowly, straightening up as she easily dodged his question. "You looked through the rest of the pile, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Haven't gotten around to the rest of it yet though."

"I need a favor. There's a memo in the pile. Says it's from Jack Harkness."

He nodded again, biting his lip. "You're not going to try and get info out of mum again, are you?" After seeing the determined look she always gave to their leader when trying to get her way, he sighed as he knew there was no way out of this. "Make sure you toss a bottle of brain bleach in your purse. I'll call you if I get anything else."

"Good boy." She smiled as she headed back to her room to get changed. If she hurried, she could still make it down to the train station in time for the 7:45 rail.

"Don't provoke her again!" Eddie called back to her. "Last time you had to brain bleach the whole block!"

"What was I supposed to do, Eds?" she called back to him while hopping around on one foot, trying to swap out her sweatpants for a pair of dark denim. "Let her get a hold of UNIT?! There was peanut butter raining from the sky and blobs of jelly trying to eat the people!"

"Would have been better than shooting da in the foot!"

She muttered under her breath as she changed her top, deciding on a plain green vintage t-shirt about recycling and saving the planet. Ironic, yes. Amusing, doubly so. After pulling on a pair of sneakers, best for running to catch a train in anyway, she tossed a few clothes into an overnight bag.

"Aren't you going to grab a bite?!"

"I'll eat at the station if there's time," she said back as she came out from her room. "There's take away menus on the counter next to the coffee tin. Don't splurge, and please for the love of God don't call up that one place with the weird little Hoolaroo working there. Blue food makes you sick."

"I know, I know," he said. "Give mum my love."

"I will. Don't forget to call in and let the Admiral know about the jump points not working. Don't need Luke suddenly materializing in Splott when he wants to pop out for a look around the Bay."

"Will do," he said, watching as she started to rush out the door. "Matts!" he called at the last second. She poked her head inside.

"What now?"

He grinned. "You've got your ear-pod sticking out of your pocket. Might wanna either put it on or tuck it somewhere safer. Lose another one and the boss'll kill you."

She smiled and gave him a nod. "Thanks, bro."

"Sure thing sis. Now hurry up. Gonna miss that train."

- - -

She'd been on the train for an hour already, using that time to catch up on her sleep, when her PRM went off. Mattie hadn't noticed it at first until the second time it started to vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to look at the LCD screen, hoping it was Eddie with news. Instead, she found a quick little note from Quincy. Reminding her that overdosing her parents with brain bleach was not a good idea. There would also be a rental car waiting for her. It would be yellow.

She smiled softly as she read the message. Even on their days off, Quincy made sure everyone was sorted. He was a real good chap. A bit dense at times she thought, but she still liked him. In his short tenure on their team, he'd become like family to her. A brother even. A sneaky older brother that would often come up behind you and talk without you ever hearing him coming.

The remaining hour and ten minutes she spent staring at the morning clouds. It looked like for once, it wasn't going to rain on her parade. She only hoped that this uplifting feeling would last the day. Something in her gut told her she was going to need it.

- - -

He'd called Quin. He hadn't wanted to. But he felt so exhausted. Knowing Mattie as he did, he knew she'd hit the bus, or hike it to their parents home. That wouldn't be a good idea, just in case they all got called back suddenly. Not that it would happen. The Admiral was there, and she would no doubt have called one of her own minions to man the fort with her while she dealt with the man in the vault.

They hadn't told him that's why she was there. But it was a process of elimination. And the choices were limited to start with. He'd asked Quin to arrange a rental for Mattie. He agreed... only after demanding his blue-ray disks of the entire Harry Potter collection back.

Eddie had put up a half-hearted argument that he hadn't had the time to copy them all off for himself yet, since they were rare collectibles meant to be savored and enjoyed rather than rushed through.

He looked at the stack of papers he'd built up around himself. Print outs of old newspaper articles. Documents he'd found buried deep in the Hub's servers. But all of it pointed to dead ends. Nothing beyond 2018. Even that sighting was scarce at best. A brawl at a police academy in the American midwest. Why, and how, he didn't want to know.

Now, however, Eddie had gotten up to get some fresh air. Standing on the balcony of his shared appartment, he tried to clear his head. Numbers and symbols and names had all been his attempts at distraction. Even monitoring the Rift from home despite the fact he knew he wasn't supposed to. None of it worked. The morning had dragged on into the afternoon, and he wanted to sleep but couldn't.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw a pair of menacing yellow irises staring back at him. And he heard the siren's song. Calling out to him, longing for him.

Summoning him to sleep.

But the breeze seemed to help some. He could see the bay from his balcony. He could see the start of the crater where records stated his predecessors had lived and worked in secret just as he did now. He scratched at his neck with a groan before placing his hand under his chin and using it to gently push his head to stretch his neck first left, then right. The pain in his ribs was coming back, making itself known slowly as if it were trying to sneak up on him again. The pain pills sat beside his scanner.

He decided to stay out in the warm sun a while longer, breathing the clean air in deeply before shuffling back into the stuffy appartment again.

**CHAPTER 10**

"Mattie!" the man exclaimed when he caught sight of the young woman sitting out with the secretary. "Good lord, girl, you should have called!"

She smiled. "Yeah, well, you're always saying it'd be good for me to pop around once in a while." The older man opened his arms, and she fell right into them. He smelled like sweat and oranges. "You been driving the lorries yourself lately da?"

He laughed as he let her go. "Not today. Just got done loading up another one."

"You have people for that you know," she said. "It's their job to do the labor so you don't have to."

"I know I know. But I'm not afraid to roll up my sleeves and get my hands dirty. The boys don't respect men who sit in the office all day long. Your brother could learn a thing or two about hard work."

She rolled her eyes, holding out a doggie bag. After her train ride, she'd stopped off for brunch. It wasn't much, but since she'd decided to visit her father first she figured he'd love to get his hands on some unhealthy nibbles for a change. "Don't say I never did anything for you," she said, quickly changing the subject.

"I won't tell if you won't."

"Cross my heart," she said with a smile as he led her back into his office. She gave a small nod to the secretary on their way. She closed the door behind her as he sat down behind the desk. "Guess that diet mum's got you on's been working."

He nodded, opening the bag and diving right in. Hot, fresh donuts. Just the way he liked them. Gooey with chocolate and sprinkles. So much so that the chocolate and the sprinkles were more on the bag than on the donut. "Won't work much longer if you keep bringing me treats like these," he said with a laugh.

"I've got a few days off. Well, today and tomorrow. Tomorrow night, too, I think." She looked down at the old chairs. The vinyl was half patched with red duct tape. The stuffing in the backing was flattened from years of use. "Need to get a new one of these," she said as she sat down.

"You're staying?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" she said with a smile back, trying to get comfortable, then added with an overly enthusiastic and childish tone, "I got me an overnight bag and a big yellow car and everything!"

He laughed, taking a bite of the pastry before offering her one. She held up her hand and shook her head. "No no. I've had my fill. You eat up. You're getting a bit skinny without me."

He started to speak, but his mouth was full. Crumbs and chocolate were getting on his desk. "Da! Napkin! Napkin!"

- - -

"_**-OUT!**_" he screamed, sitting up straight with his arm outstretched. His chest beneath the plastic cast tried to heave, but he found breathing difficult. Brown hair drenched in sweat clung to his scalp. He had never been more aware of every inch of his body than he was in those moments.

His breathing slowed as he bit his lower lip to keep from shouting in delayed pain from his injuries. He didn't know what had just happened. Glancing around he tried to get his eyes to focus enough to find his medication.

Still by the scanner. He would have sighed in relief had it not been for the pain.

"Next time I see that bloody tea boy I'mma punch him in the head," Eddie swore under his breath as he struggled to get off of the couch. It wouldn't have been so bad had it not been for the fact the thing was so old that it sagged on one side. And his luck just happened to run in such a way that it was this side where he'd put his head and midsection.

Once sitting up, he gripped the arm of the couch tightly to steady his swimming head before trying to stand. Once on his feet, he seemed fine. Glancing back down to the couch, he frowned. Guess that was going to be the best sleep he'd get for a while.

After fetching a small glass of water, he set himself back down in front of his computer. A tab in the background was flashing. Naturally, he clicked on it. A message from one of his more dubious contacts.

"When did I..." He scratched his ear, trying to remember when he'd last had dealings with them. Then, his eyes became larger as he remembered what he'd been doing before he fell asleep. The wedding photo. Besides the man he had managed to identify, there was another. Someone odd, out of focus. He couldn't peg them down.

"No frelling way..." he said in awe as he stared at the photograph to one side of the screen and the file he'd been sent to the other. "It... It can't be. It just..."

He scrolled down the page, reading on with baited breath a file that had been buried deep within the system he thought he had known better than he knew his own mind. Found in one morning by an anonymous contact when he himself hadn't even thought to look in the Hub's backup servers.

When the awe wore off, he clicked on another program. Quickly he typed in the name and watched as each syllable was converted into another symbol before the scans of the tablet scrolled quickly up and down the screen.

And then, there it was, plain as the nose on his face.

"I'll be a son of a bitch..." he said to himself, biting his lip again in thought before reaching for a pen and paper. It all made so much sense then in that moment that he actually felt sorry it had all been pieced together. Yet glancing back at the pile of papers and photographs, a feeling of exhilaration started to come over him. No, the puzzle wasn't solved. Not completely. He wanted to call Mattie. Let her know what he had found. But Eddie himself didn't know exactly what it was she had brought home to him. What she, what they, had stumbled upon. He decided to wait until near the end of the day, when he just couldn't work anymore. It gave him something to do, something to keep him from sleeping, from dreaming...

The puzzle was put before him and he was the only one who could put it together without all the pieces.

And the hidden files of Ianto Jones were just the tip of the iceberg.

- - -

The morning had turned out pleasant. The afternoon equally so. She'd decided to hang around at the warehouse with her father rather than go straight home. She never liked being left alone with her mother. Not since her first trip home while working for Torchwood. Three and a half years before Eddie had been dragged into their ranks, she'd made the mistake of bragging about her take down of a Sontaran. The assignment that landed her the job in the first place.

She'd been lucky, that time. Mikal, rest his soul, had come to pick her up half an hour later and managed one heck of a shot with the tranquilizer gun. Her mum's first of many shots full of Compound 92.

But she enjoyed the day with her father. She'd even impressed him with how much she knew about haulage. In her line of work, it was good to know as much as possible about the "cover story" in the warehouse buzzing full of blue-collar workers above you.

Now, she'd found herself in a diner for tea. It was grubby, and it was a bit noisy. And it was everything Mattie had expected it to be. She'd followed in the rental, rehearsing safe topics of conversation in her head. Reciting to herself the local news of Brighton she'd been keeping up with just in case her parents asked about her work.

She was hoping most of all that she wouldn't need to use the little unmarked brown bottle in her purse.

"So then I said, I said _**Get your mitts off my knickers!**_"

Mattie stared at him, blinking as she tried to recall the last few moments of conversation. She managed to recover quickly, recalling he was telling a story about shopping for her mum's last birthday. "Dad, you didn't!"

"I did," he said, looking up as the waitress came to set their drinks down. Her gum smacking as she went away.

"What, no chips?" Mattie said, not noticing how annoyed she looked before glancing up at her father, who was staring at her drink. "What?"

"What IS that?"

"Tea."

"Doesn't look like any tea I've ever seen. It's... purple."

She blinked at him. "Yeah, and?"

"Purple tea. Are you sure it's really tea?"

"Like you've never had purple tea," she said in disbelief. "It's really good. Tastes like a chai latte. I love lattes, but I can't have milk, remember?"

He seemed to consider this, then picked up his own cup of plain, regular tea and took a sip. His eyes never leaving his daughter as she picked up her cup and put it to her lips greedily.

"Ah... That's the stuff!" she said after putting her cup back down. "You know, you should really be more open minded. Purple tea is perfectly normal. It's all the rage in-" Before she could spit out the next word, she caught herself. She'd almost slipped. And now would not have been the best moment for her to say Cardiff. Not so soon after her arrival.

"Brighton," she finished, the word sounding rushed as she tried to get the attention of the waitress. "Excuse me," she said, half leaning out of her chair. "Excuse me!"

She felt her father's eyes on her, and knew she was starting to make a fool of herself. Smiling, she settled back down and did the only thing she could think of. She began to pout. "Where are those chips?... I thought we ordered them half an hour ago. I come out to visit and I can't even get a decent basket of chips. Reminds me why I left in the first place."

He sighed and rolled his eyes as she began to make her pouty face. Her lower lip stuck out just a bit, her jack slightly slack as her eyes started to slowly get larger and sadder like a sad little hound. "Alright alright... You pay for your own tea, and I'll take you to the chip shop 'round the corner from the house."

She smiled. He knew it would get her to beam like a lit up Christmas tree. "But you're telling mum you like to drink those foofy alien drinks."

"What she doesn't know won't-"

"Your lips are purple, love. And your tongue's turned green."

Her eyes grew wide as she frantically picked up her purse and searched through it for her compact. Finding it, she snapped it open and stared at her strangely colored mouth. It had never done THAT before, she was sure. She'd seen it happen to other people, even the boss. But she'd always been careful. Then again, she'd always had hers through a straw.


	5. CH11 and CH12

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
**__**CHAPTERS 11 & 12**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 11**

The day was nearly over. Eddie found himself slipping in and out of constant focus as he fought off the sleep. The darvacet Quin had prescribed him dulled the pain, but he could still feel it. As if it were wriggling through him slowly but surely.

At last, he found he could work no more. The pile had been brought down to a mere few papers left. Handwritten memos and water stained images. Little more than rubbish, even.

But he had decided to finish one more task before calling his sister with his findings. Having set aside the "Jones Files" as he had dubbed them, he had taken to the memos in the archaic handwriting. Memos signed with the name Jack.

At first glance, Eddie knew they were not written by the man in their own company who went by such a name. Though the handwriting was very similar indeed, there were slight differences.

Comparing samples of their own Jack's writing to those of this mystery from the Crypt, he jotted down notes in the leet speak shorthand that he had learned and used since he was ten. But at last, his focus was lost. Yawning, Eddie glanced at the clock on the wall, letting his head slump forward for just a moment in temporary rest in preparation for the move from his chair back to the couch. Perhaps to his own bed even.

_"...My Clever... Clever Wordsmith..."_

Eddie jolted awake with a gasp, his heart racing as he wiped with his good hand at his face. Frantic, he looked around at the apartment as if he had expected to have been elsewhere at that moment. For a few seconds, the technician had forgotten where he was, and when realization dawned on him, he began to settle down. Glancing at the clock again, he noticed only a few minutes had passed since he had last looked upon it.

Shaking his head with a sigh, he carefully picked himself up out of the chair, searching for his earpod before he could succumb again to the nightmarish sleep that threatened to take him. He needed to call Mattie, tell her his findings. And maybe, just maybe she could keep him awake just a while longer.

---

Mattie had indeed finally called her mother, letting her know of her arrival. The call had been put off for as long as possible, and in fact had been made during the drive from Williams Haulage Corp. to the family home. A simple two-story red brick home.

When she pulled her yellow rental into the driveway behind her father's van, the same van she remembered her parents buying when she was four, she remained in the car a moment longer, planning the story she was going to feed her mother this time around. Remembering the glass vials in her purse, she sighed and at last climbed out with a well practiced smile to get her bag.

As she went inside, dropping her bag and purse by the door so that her arms were free, she was greeted by her mother. The woman pulled her into a tight hug.

"Gwen, Gwen. I think she's turning purple," her father said with a laugh, picking up his daughter's things to take upstairs.

She was let go, and was grateful for it. Much longer and she was sure she'd be the same shade as her tea earlier. Turning to find her father's hands full, she smiled again and reached out to take them from him. "I've got these. Besides, if you drop them, you might end up with a bullet in your foot."

"What?!" her mother exclaimed.

Matilda laughed, taking her bag and purse back carefully. "I'm a cop, remember. Service pistol, badge, just in case of emergency."

Gwen nodded in understanding while her husband shook his head and turned to her. "Right then, dinner. Since our princess finally came around, I'll-"

"Oh no. I'm not eating another night of experimental kitchen science. I'm sorry, but the last week's been nothing but strange foods that I can't even pronounce. We're having an old fashioned take-away."

The 24 year old shook her head and gave a small laugh. "Actually, da and I stopped off and grabbed a bite. I hadn't eaten all day and couldn't wait much longer. So... Don't worry about me much. I'll just nibble at whatever we have."

"Right then," Gwen said, looking at her husband with her stubborn face. "Chinese. We can save the left overs for lunch tomorrow."

As her parents squabbled over what to order, Mattie took the distraction and made her way upstairs to her old bedroom. She was glad to see it hadn't changed much. Though her childish things were tucked away in the attic, she knew, in case she or her brother may someday have children of their own.

With a sigh, she closed the door and put her bag on the bed. "Fat chance of that happening," she said to herself in the privacy of the room. Opening her bag, she rooted around in the few clothes she had brought for the trip. It really had been a last minute moment of packing she had done. A few t-shirts, two pairs of pants. One of which were a dirty pair of sweatpants from the week before.

Shaking her head, she pulled out the clothes and laid them out on the light blue bedspread before looking for other items to put away. Shampoo, toothbrush, a power cord she didn't even remember packing and most likely did not even need.

She was nearly finished when she heard a light knock at the door before it opened and her mother poked her head in.

"Sorry the room's not ready."

"It's okay," she replied. "I know it was a bit short notice. I actually got into town a lot earlier in the day. But I figured we could spend the day together tomorrow while da's working, and I could hang around with him at the warehouse today."

Gwen nodded. "I remember when I was your age, I was just starting my training. And look at you. Already well past-"

"I'm just lucky," Mattie said, zipping her bag back up.

The older woman sighed, stepping further into the room and sitting on the side of the bed, facing her daughter. "I worry about you. I was a cop once too, you know. I know how dangerous it is out there, especially now with all of the refugees coming from outer space of all places. You just don't-"

"Mum," she interrupted. "I'm alright. Heck, these days I spend most of my time at a desk in the cold case offices. So you've got little, if anything to worry about."

Her mother sighed and gave a small smile, but Mattie could see it was an uneasy one. "I'll be down in a few ticks, yeah. Then the three of us can catch up. I just need to finish settling in first."

"Oh, of course. I didn't-"

Mattie leaned down to hug her mother tightly. Not as tightly as the woman had hugged her.

---

The three sat together at the dining room table. Mattie knew her mother must have insisted the table. When she was a child, she could remember the dining room being used only for guests and holidays. As she picked at her rice, not really hungry since Rhys had made good on his promise to take her to the nearby chip shop before coming home, she listened to her parents talking about their day.

However, she wasn't really listening. She was waiting. She had been expecting a message from Eddie, and the day was winding down. Being his older sister, she couldn't help worrying about him. But she knew the best chance she had of getting any information would be in person. If she'd tried to ask the tough questions on the phone... Plus, being there in person gave her the chance to use the brain bleach. Make her mother forget she had even asked about this Jack Harkness fellow.

"Matilda?"

She blinked, looking from her mother, to her father who stared back at her expectantly. "Oh, sorry," she said, feeling her cheeks flush. "I was miles away."

"You're working yourself to an early grave, girl," Rhys said, shaking a fork with a bit of beef on the end at her.

She smiled. "I can't help it if I'm the best at what I do," she replied, using her chopsticks to scoop up some rice and shoveling it into her mouth as an excuse not to speak.

Gwen sighed. "I was just saying that you hardly ever call. You don't come by but once every three or four months. And when was the last time you actually managed a vacation?"

Swallowing hard, Mattie put more food into her mouth. Anything to keep from speaking and ruining the first dinner with her parents she had where the brain bleach didn't need to be put in the drinks. And she wanted to keep it that way.

"Well?" Gwen asked, waiting for her to finish chewing for an answer.

Matilda racked her brain for an answer that might satisfy her, then, her pocket vibrated. Whether it was who she hoped, or someone else, she was grateful for it. "Oh," she said, picking up her napkin from her lap and wiping at her mouth. "Sorry, I've got a call. I need to take this," she said, almost rushing from the dining room.

Once she was out of sight, she flew across the sitting room to the front door, but did not go outside. Instead, she moved to the other side of the stairs leading up to the second level. She stood in the smaller television room and checked the PRM as she pulled it from her pocket.

From the other pocket, she removed her earpod and tapped it. "This had better be good."

_"Well,"_ a sleepy voice said. _"You sound like you're having fun."_

"Ha ha," Mattie replied sarcastically. "You have no idea. Somehow they got on the topic of me and work. I wasn't really paying attention. So... What have you got for me Eds?" she asked.

---

Gwen rolled her eyes, putting her chopsticks down. "She's been gone a bit now," she commented.

Rhys nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "You know how passionate she is about her job. You probably made her uncomfortable."

"Me? You're the one who said she's more useful outside of the cold case office."

"I just suggested that with her talents, she might-"

"Oh forget it," Gwen snapped, starting to rise from her seat.

Rhys sighed. "No no. You're right," he said, not really believing it. But over the years, he'd learned not to argue with the former alien buster. It would only lead to a long row and a night on the downstairs couch. "I'll fetch her. You sit and finish eating."

Gwen smiled a smug, gap-toothed smile of domestic victory as she made herself comfortable once again. Watching her husband get up from the table, she snatched up with her chopsticks a piece of chicken and stuffed it in her mouth.

Rhys looked in the sitting room, expecting to find his daughter but instead she was nowhere in sight. He passed through this room, assuming she must have gone to the hall for more privacy. Following the only logical path, he came to the entrance of the house, and heard Mattie's voice nearby.

He moved to go to her, then stopped. Her back was to him. She didn't know he was there, listening to her. It was not a respect for privacy that had stopped him in his tracks. It was, instead, a tone of voice. A tone spoken with a certain word he had thought he would never have to hear from anyone's lips again.

And that word which caused him to hide out of sight on the opposite side of the stairs was one that caused his heart to race in fear. Because there was only one thing such a word meant. Rhys Williams thought that the nightmare had ended when he and his wife fled Cardiff for London in hopes that it would not follow them.

"Slow down, slow down," he heard his daughter say. "The handwriting, did you finish with it?"

There was a pause. He knew she was listening to the answer to her question.

"I thought so. Jack's always written with the opposite hand. It makes sense that the letters tilt in the other direction. So... Where does this leave us?"

He glanced back the way he'd come. Would Gwen be coming through in the next few moments? Would she get worried and come to fetch them both?

His attention was grabbed again when he heard her voice raise slightly in disbelief. "But he's dead... No, no. I've seen the death certificate myself... Don't ask, it came up in an old case of mine when I was cross-referencing some missing children from back then. Are you absolutely sure it's the same man? Are you sure it's _Ianto Jones_ and not just a glitch in the computer systems?"

Rhys took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down before starting back towards the dining room. The last he heard his daughter say before she was muffled by a door was for whoever it was she had been speaking with to send her the files. After that, he did not want to know what else was said. He had heard enough to cause his mind to panic.

As he pushed open the door to the dining room, he had decided not to tell his wife yet. He would confront his daughter himself. Rhys had a horrible feeling that if Gwen found out now... he may wake to find two days missing and Gwen trying to figure out why she'd slept in her street clothes again.

He masked his fears rather well as his daughter came back into the dining room moments after him. Gwen commented on the two of them taking so long. Before his daughter could speak, Rhys laughed.

"She was on the phone dealing with some work stuff," he said quickly. "It seemed pretty important, so I left her alone." He paused, catching a slight look of panic in his daughter's brown eyes though she, too, had a face of stone as she sipped her drink. "She's working on that case we saw on the telly. The one with the missing infant and the stolen BMW. Figured that was more important than coming back to the table."

He watched as her internal panic started to lessen. But he cut his eyes back to her with a knowing stare. And it was then Mattie knew she had been caught out. And in a sick little way, she was glad it was her father and not her mother.

She had gone through that one far too many times to count now, and was unsure if she could bring herself to drug the woman again.

**CHAPTER 12**

He could feel her in his mind. Feel her fingers sifting through his thoughts. He tried to shut her out. The rigorous training his sister, and Quincy, had put him through was no match for the unseen tendrils that combed through his brain. That looked into every memory against his will and had made themselves privy to each thought as he frantically tried to shut her out.

There were no words, no words he knew. Just a soft voice, soft and soothing and beckoning to him as he tried to resist her mental violations. How? Why? These were questions Eddie could not answer. He dared not try.

Just as quickly as she had launched her mental assault, she retreated back into the darkness of his sleep. Easily forgotten in favor of mediocre dreams and less frightening nightmares.

---

She woke the next morning later than she had intended. Looking to the clock on the nightstand, she realized she had gotten a solid ten hours of unbroken sleep. Such a thing was rare for the Williams girl. And was never even heard of by Cardiff's second in command. Yawning and stretching her arms up towards the ceiling, she almost decided to go back to sleep.

But she'd come home for a reason. And today would be the only chance she had at getting answers before going back to work. She was sure Martha and Jack, her Jack, would explain the situation. But even then, she knew they would not give the team the full story.

Climbing out of bed, she stumbled around to gather her things for her morning ritual. Get clean, get dressed, and fetch coffee. After that, she resigned herself to do whatever it was her mother wanted them to do.

When Mattie finally made it downstairs to the kitchen, she was surprised to discover her father at the stove and her mother sitting at the table reading the paper.

Scratching the side of her head, she shuffled towards the coffee pot. "I thought you'd be working today, da."

"Took the day," he replied cheerfully. "It's not often my little girl comes home for a visit, remember."

She smiled softly as she poured herself some coffee. Though not nearly as good as what she was used to at work, it was better than most. "Do you have any powdered cream?" she asked.

"Nope. Sorry love," Gwen said, folding the paper and putting it down as her daughter came to the table. "Have a good rest?"

She nodded, wrapping both hands around her mug and taking a deep breath of the dark liquid before having herself a greedy gulp. "What's the plan then?" she asked as she set her cup down.

"Well, after breakfast, I thought we could go take in a show at that new theatre-"

"Nope. You're supposed to be tailing that one bloke today, remember?" Rhys held up a spatula and flipped the hotcake over.

"Tailing the who for the what now?" Mattie asked, looking to her mother with wider and more alert eyes than was normal for her this time of morning. "What have you got yourself into mum..."

"She's been doing that private eye thing again," Rhys said before Gwen could answer.

"It's only part time," she protested. "Besides... Mrs. Peterson thinks her husband is sleeping around on her and I mentioned that I might be able to find out where he's spending his work days if I'm not too terribly busy..."

Mattie tilted her head and shot her mother a look as she sipped rather than gulped her coffee now. "Seriously mum, you need to stop watching those old cop shows. They're giving you ideas again."

Gwen muttered under her breath, and her daughter was sure it was something awful. "Are you at least going to get paid or is this one of your Silver Cloak shennanigans?"

"She's getting paid for it." The words were accompanied by a large stack of nice, warm, fluffy hotcakes. He divied them out amongst the three of them before sitting down to eat with his wife and daughter.

Gwen smiled her gap-toothed smile. "Well, you could always come with me. I could use a fresh set of eyes."

Mattie shook her head with a laugh, reaching for the syrup. "No thanks. I do that every day, remember. I don't need to do it on a mini-vacation too."

"Oh, so it's a vacation now. Look at that, we're a posh hotel now, Rhys."

Mattie couldn't help but laugh. "If da keeps cooking like this, maybe throw in some room service, I might never leave."

As the Williams trio were having their morning meal, an odd device buried in the bottom of Matilda's travel bag began to flash. It was not her usual sort of kit, but rather one that only came on, only worked at all, for a certain sort of emergency.

She was, of course, oblivious to this as she ate her hotcakes with syrup and had a second cuppa coffee with her parents.

---

Once more Eddie woke with a start, for far more urgent and different reasons than bad dreams and bizarre nightmares.

The telephone was ringing off the hook, but that was the least of his worries.

A klaxon bell was wailing, his computer was running amok, and there was something in his kitchen that only went DING when there was stuff. Certain stuff. Whatever the stuff was, he never found out for certain because he had never heard it go DING before. But it was certainly something that wasn't good.

As best as he could, which was not much due to his painfully awkward cast that had been placed on him by Quincy, Eddie tried to move about the apartment and shut all of the noisy equipment off. Or at least turn down the sound of it all.

When he finally managed to tone the noise level down and get to his computer, he was beyond bewildered. He was absolutely perplexed. His nightmares forgotten in the confusion, with a twinge of excitement, as he watched the CCTV footage of the Cardiff Crater...

Or rather, watched something on it crawl out of the hole.

His telephone was ringing again. This time, he answered it.

"Hello?" he said, never taking his eyes off the screen as the wraith-like figure was joined by another.

Then another.

"Yeah... I'm watching it right now... I... I don't know. Ghosts? No no. No such things as ghosts. Can't be the Gelth, that situation was over a century ago. Dealt with..." He trailed off as he watched another, bulkier figure come into view. The picture became grainy, nearly full static. He couldn't make out the larger figure before he lost the picture completely. With a few keystrokes, he tried to switch to another camera. More of the same. He rotated between all of the surveillance cameras in the area until he found a clear one.

"I... Ma'am... I'mma have to call you back..." he said, dropping the phone as he tried to get himself into a chair as comfortably as possible without looking away from the computer screen.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

Could that really have been... _Owen Harper_crawling out of the crater with a sub-machine gun attached to his arm?

There was a little device. A tiny little thing, tucked away in a junk drawer in the kitchen of the flat Eddie shared with his sister. In the darkness of the drawer, the little screen lit up. With little letters flashing on it.

What those letters spelled out, Eddie wouldn't know. Because he'd forgotten the piece of kit was even in there.

* * *

**A/N** - And so ends Eddie and Mattie's few days. Next up, we'll be visiting with Martha and Captain Jack back in the hub during the same few days!


	6. CH13 thru CH15

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
CHAPTERS 13-15**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 13**

_**Two days ago...**_

Jack followed her, unsure of what to make of his situation. How long had he been gone? How old was the woman ahead of him now? She is talking to him, and he hears the sweet voice that saved the world with that silver tongue, but he isn't listening. Mentally, he is mapping out each twist, each turn down the corridors she is leading him down. Eventually, they come out to an elevator. It looked rickety, unstable. But the woman stepped into it, her head high and exuding a confidence he had not seen in her since she threatened the Daleks with the Osterhagen Key.

"Well, are you stepping in or what? I don't have all night," she said, giving him her kindhearted smile. He wondered if that was the same she used on her patients. She was, he remembered clearly, a doctor.

He nodded, stepping in beside her. Thankful to be out of the cell, but unable to shake the feeling that this place was not one he wanted to be in much longer. As she pulled the lever to close and secure the doors, she tried to engage him in conversation once again to pass the time between floors.

"Sorry for the rough treatment, Jack," Martha said. "But they had no way of knowing if you were hostile or a refugee."

Jack's defenses lowered, but did not drop completely in that elevator with his old friend. One he would trust with his life, if it were possible to even lose it. "You know me. I'm game for anything."

"I hope that's still true," Martha said reaching up to the pod at her ear. She didn't speak, but only nodded before smiling and turning to Jack again. "Well, everyone's gone home. We can get you a fresh change of clothes in the locker room. Those sweats have got to be crawling with... I don't even want to think about it knowing you."

They shared a tense laugh. Jack had learned you could discover a lot about a person when stuck in an elevator with them. For instance, Gwen was one of the few who had no problem standing beside him at the highest points in the city. But get the woman in the elevator, make sure she's pointed away from your shoes. Because that Mount Vertigo was definitely going to blow if she was in one for more than a couple of minutes.

And Micky, he was a riot. Normally one to keep his mouth flapping in the wind, he became a very quiet, very reserved sort of man when trapped in a small space. Contemplative. Almost as if he were in a zen-like state. It made you remember that behind his bravado and loud mouth there was actually a very bright and intelligent mind hiding away.

The Captain had thought he'd figured out the woman riding along beside him. He'd thought he knew everything about her through their shared troubles of the Year That Never Was. But the woman standing beside him was everything he knew her to be and more. He could not place it even as their short trip in the lift had ended.

The doors parted, and she stepped out first without hessitation. She walked with her hands clasped behind her back, her head held high with one foot before the other. Her pace was measured but quick. Jack had to hurry his step to catch up to her.

He was following her once more, grateful to be out of the lift. Though he was usually the one to make others uncomfortable in one, the polite yet forced chit-chat unsettled him. He felt as if she were the one trying to break him down into neatly organized mannerisms and tells rather than the other way around.

"What's going on here?" he asked, stealing a glance around at the hodgepodge setup around them.

She held up her hand to quiet him as the other was at her ear. Jack opened his mouth again, but she interrupted him, speaking to someone though no one but he had been around. "...You're kidding me, right? He actually had them in storage?... Well, it saves us from having to hunt them down in a secondhand shop," she said finally with a sigh. She turned to Jack with a smile, using the hand she'd silenced him with to mimic someone talking nonstop.

"Of course. Thank you. Be sure to leave a card there for him." She paused, then glanced at Jack. "What do you prefer? Visa, Master Card, or-"

"Doesn't matter," he replied with a shrug, not sure of how to answer that question. "Didn't those go under?"

She waves at him again. "Leave him the Visa. It has a lower interest rate. And heaven knows if we run up the expense reports again I think the accountants may actually have a mass heart attack this time." She laughed briefly before turning back to Jack again with a smile on her face. "Sorry, Jack," she said. "You were saying?"

What had he been saying? He looked behind her to see a hallway. It was narrow, just wide enough for a single person to pass through at a time. This gave it the appearance of length. From his current angle, he could see that it widened out at the end, but how wide and how far, he could not be certain. His mind was already calculating the chances of getting around the older woman, and how fast he could make it down that hallway to possible freedom.

"Jack," Martha said, snapping her fingers inches away from his face. "You wanted something?"

Slowly he turned his bright blues back to her. "Yeah," he said, putting on his best false smile. "Why are you here, and where the hell am I?"

"I thought I'd gotten around to that already," she said, her eyebrows knitting together as she began to frown.

"From what you've told me, it's Cardiff," he said. Already he'd had an idea of what might be going on. At least, the where. The rest he was still trying to puzzle out.

Martha nodded, looking around before finding a chair at a nearby station. She went for it, but Jack was the quicker. He turned it for her, holding it still so she could sit. "You might want to have a sit down, too mister."

"I think I'll stand," he said.

"It wasn't a request."

Jack was surprised to find himself doing as she had commanded. The way she was sitting, he felt like she'd done something like this before. Judging from her tone, it seemed like this time she was the one telling the story rather than listening to someone else's.

"You've figured this all out. I can tell. You've got that look in your eye."

"What look?" Jack feigned innocence.

She laughed. "That same look in your eye everyone else gets when they see what's hiding down here. The same look I had when I saw your top secret base for the first time."

He didn't need to say the name out loud. Looking into her eyes told him all he needed to know in confirmation. But Martha was the one who gave that name a voice, a sound. Solidifying it in fact rather than leaving it as mere conjecture. "Torchwood," she said. "Everything's changed. Without you the whole world's gone to pot."

The Captain crossed his arms over his chest with a cynical smirk. "Glad to know I was so important after all."

She shook her head. "Ever the smartass," she said with an equally cynical laugh. "After 25 years, it's good to hear your voice. Even if you are being a bit of a jerk."

**CHAPTER 14**

The pair of former companions got on well, catching up as best as time travelers could. Martha told him of her life since parting ways after the Daleks' attempted reality bomb. Of course, she was forced to leave out certain details... as is the trouble with friends from different points in time. Jack filled the gaps with his own stories of his adventures. Those most recent for himself, most notably the ones involving a devious game of "temporal pantsing" he had going with the Doctor for a while.

The old woman guffawed at the prospect of the TARDIS playing for both sides of the Great Pants War.

Jack was telling her in great detail his vacation plans, up to the point of his nude excursion that ended in an unexpected trip to a stone lined prison cell, as she well knew.

Martha silenced him by raising a hand, the other reaching for the pod at her ear. "Say again? Jack was chin wagging at me."

After a pause, she smiled and laughed. "Sorry, sorry. I meant the Captain. I need to remember to distinguish between the two."

He watched her curiously before looking past. Light from an LED screen lit up a calm, placid face that had not been there when they came up from his cell. Jack felt a minor pang of embarrassment that he had not noticed before. His senses, he noted, were not as sharp as they should have been.

"Jack?" Martha asked, now through speaking to whomever had been on the other end. "Jack, attention over here." Snapping her fingers in his face, she finally got him looking back at her.

"What?"

"Time to go. Your hotel's ready and I'm sure you'd love a proper lie down."

"I'm fine."

She stood, crossing her arms and staring down at him firmly, as if he were an insolent child. "You're not staying here all night."

"I can take care of myself."

"It's not **you** I'm worried about." Glancing over her shoulder, she gave a shout. "Murdoch, we're heading out. You've got Watchtower until Oh-six-hundred."

"Yes madame," the expressionless face replied from his place at Eddie's station.

"As for you, Captain, don't bother with him. Metal frame, heart of tin."

"I didn't even get a chance to say _hello_ yet."

Martha grinned, breaking the dark, stern face with a line of ivory. With a shake of her head, she turned toward the elevator. "Come on Jack. I need some sleep and you smell like... well, I'd rather stand next to a weevil."

She had driven him in the company van, treating him to the sights of the lost city of Cardiff he had left behind with full confidence that the vehicle would not be needed until the morning.

"Home sweet home," Martha said, leading the way into the suite. "At least for the time being. You've got bedroom and shower. The kitchenette is fully stocked with plenty of food and drink. This room also comes with an automatic coffee dispenser, which I'm informed is loaded with the best Earth has to offer."

She walked as she talked, moving towards an end table laden with various necessities and a gift basket. "My boys have taken care of everything, even this." Picking up the basket to show him, she couldn't help but laugh. Clearly visible were a few skeins of yarn and a couple sets of needles.

Jack's eyes grew wide as he closed the gap between them quickly. Snatching the basket away almost greedily he began sorting through it. "Real wool!"

He pulled a skein out and pressed it against his cheek, lost in a moment of childish joy that alienated Martha some.

Clearing her throat, she gingerly took the basket from him with one hand and tried with the other for the skein. Jack nearly bit her hand off. Yelping in surprise, she jerked her hand back before slapping him with it on his bare cheek.

"What was that for?" Jack groaned.

Martha stared him down. "Moving along..." she began. "I was told the wardrobe contains clothes that should be to your liking. Harborne and Quincy fetched them for you."

"Even I know how hard it is to find a good store open this time of the night."

"You'd be surprised how resourceful that pair are... And how much of a packrat someone is."

"Anything else, oh mighty headmistress?" Jack teased as he lowered the skein of woolen goodness, but did not place it back into the basket.

Martha smiled as she saw a bit of the old Jack she remembered, but knew it would be fleeting. The man she had known was a man of purpose. One who knew what he wanted, who he was... a man Jack would not be again for a little longer still. "Yes..." she started, wanting to explain the delicate situation he would find in just two short days time.

But she relented. He had years yet to live broken and full of angst. She would let him have his two days of peace, and hopefully she could give him a sense of purpose again.

"But it can wait," she said to his expectant face not a moment too soon. "It's been a long day and, try as I might, I'm not as young as I used to be."

"But every bit the gorgeous heroine," Jack said with a flash of his cheeky grin.

Martha couldn't hold in a laugh. "Stop it Jack," she said. "And goodnight. Get some rest, you'll be needing it."

Jack lay awake staring at the ceiling. As promised, when he'd looked in the wardrobe there were clothes. Not just any clothes, but ones he would have gotten for himself. Blue button down shirts nearly folded in clear wrapped packets. White shirts, some short sleeved, others sleeveless, to wear underneath them. These two were folded and tucked away in a drawer neatly and cleanly. Trousers were carefully clipped to hangers and tucked away in a top closeted portion of the wardrobe.

Everything together made ten sets. Ten perfect sets.

But the prize of it all lay over the arm of a chair. The box it had been tucked into sitting on the seat. A scrap of paper, a note written hastily in handwriting not unlike his own, had been pinned to the lapel.

It was eerie how everything had been set for him so meticulously, so precisely. Even now he thought of how odd it was that the coat **smelled** right, aside from the scent of mothballs.

The details were too perfect, to accurate. It was enough to drive a man mad trying to figure it out... if he hadn't already made a home with insanity. Sitting up, he stared through the dark to the door of the shower. Groaning, Jack rubbed his eyes and climbed off the bed. A good, warm shower would calm his mind. Get him to relax enough to focus.

Of course it was all too perfect. He knew it wasn't just Angry Bob in the alley behind the chip shop he was dealing with. It was Torchwood. They would know everything about his habits, his tastes as they were on this spinning rock of death. Martha was the leader, and there was no telling who else could be involved who knew him.

But first, a nice warm shower. Maybe he'd take a night to go see the opera. Why not? A pair of tickets were left for him with the basket and credit card. Might turn out to be worth his while.

**CHAPTER 15**

Martha looked up at the first sound of the lift. A polite smile on her face told Jack this was **not** going to be a good day. "Morning, Captain," she said, rising from the station that belonged to Matilda.

"You're looking radiant this morning."

She laughed lightly. "Flattery will get you nowhere this morning. I've got an assignment for you."

"You may be hot stuff, Mrs. Milligan," Jack said with a vocal swagger. "But I don't work here anymore."

"Trust me, you'll want this. It'll keep you sharp, and who knows Jack. You may uncover clues to why you were dragged through the rift in your birthday suit."

"Martha..."

"Won't find out anything sitting around with your thumb up your arse."

Jack's face broke into an amused grin. "And you kiss Tom with that mouth?"

Martha softened an gave a gentle laugh, gently putting a hand on his arm. "Murdoch's going to break you into the routine. I've instructed him to be gentle with you. It's been a while since you came into work."

Jack raised a brow as Martha's hand slipped away. He watched her disappear down the hallway he had spotted the night before. He made to follow, but stopped when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. "There is much work to perform, Captain Harkness."

"Just call me Jack," he replied with a mischievous smirk.

"Your flirtatious demeanor will not be effective in this situation, Captain."

He glanced back after Martha before following the android to what appeared to be a blank space of wall. The android touched the stone, revealing a panel. Leaning forward, the metal man spoke in monotone into a small speaker.

"Murdoch, Beta. Moscow, Sydney, Glasgow. Clearance 5."

There was a brief moment of hessitation, in which Murdoch said plainly, "Response time is significantly slower than my previous visit."

"Voice print accepted," came a second voice after a while. It sounded slightly familiar, but the old Captain couldn't place it. Whoever it belonged to, she sounded attractive. Forceful, opinionated. His kind of woman if he ever had to pin it down to a type that is.

"Access to armory cages one, five, seventeen, twenty-one. Reminder to all staff; Armory cage 13 is out of bounds without clearance of Director Harborne."

"Well that takes all the fun out of it, don't it big guy?" Jack said as he followed the android into the hidden armory when the wall panel slid into the ceiling.

"Weaponry is not for promoting enjoyable activities, Captain Harkness."

"... We really need to work on that personality of your's..." Jack strode with his hands in his pockets, chewing the inside of his cheek as he inspected the armory. Even he had to be impressed at the collection, what little he was allowed to see.

Stone panels with large numbers carved into them proclaimed which ones were still closed off to him and his positronic partner. A quick run of mental arithmetic made it obvious to him that this corridor was much bigger on the inside than it should have been... Transcendental science that didn't belong on Earth unless hidden inside four blue walls.

"Your sidearm," Murdoch said, stealing Jack's attention. The android held out to him a rather odd looking device. Odd in the sense that it was most definitely alien, obviously 51st century technology, and monogrammed with the numerical values of Pythagora Gamma 7. The values as Jack held the weapon and looked it over in his hands, made this particular weapon just a bit out of the ordinary. Yet all of these details were strange, they were not the primary reason Jack found the weapon odd. Though they do play a vital role in how Jack came to his final conclusion.

This weapon, with numerical values equaling a specific set of letters, was one he had sworn was lost somewhere on the TARDIS over 2000 years ago. That, or he thought he may have lost it when he lost his ship.

The fact of the matter is, Jack was given out of this intergalactic armory...

His own sonic squareness gun.

"Is this not an acceptable mode of armament," Murdoch asked plainly, taking it back to inspect it himself. "The batteries are fully charged. I see no fault in the circuitry."

Still stunned at the astronomical odds of the situation, Jack swallowed hard and asked, "Do you know what that is?"

Murdoch would have frowned if he could. "This is weapon item 9-M2O.S7. Sonic class, compact blaster circa-"

"Close enough," Jack said, silencing him. "Give it back." Murdoch offered it back, pommel first, to the Captain. Jack took it and inspected it closely one more time for himself before being satisfied. "You know, someone once swapped this out for a banana."

"Impossible. The Glasgow database keeps record of all-"

"You're no fun," Jack said, looking past into the closing section. He just barely caught a glimpse of the tip of a Dalek weaponry arm.

As if sensing Jack's sudden unease, Murdoch gave a mechanical smirk. At least, Jack thought he saw a smirk. "Do not panic. That is a component of Edward's latest weapon project. It is no longer attatched to a Dalek Mark 3 casing." He motioned for Jack to exit the armory ahead of him. Before stepping out, the android pulled three grenade-looking devices from a shelf. "In case of a weevil nest," he said flatly.

"What exactly are we doing? Martha never said."

"We are patrolling the bay area. Then we will proceed along the Rift fault 24 to sweep for flotsam and jetsam before returning to base camp."

Jack sighed, then drew in a deep breath. "Well big boy, let's get to it. Faster we get out there, faster I start getting some damn answers."

From down the hall in Commander Harborne's office, Martha was watching the immortal and the tin man, listening to their exchange on the internal CCTV as she plowed into paperwork.

She didn't know why the Rift had brought Jack back to planet Earth, but it was clear that he was needed. And he needed Torchwood if only to use their combined skills to help him figure it all out.

Her dark eyes cut to the antiquated telephone on the desk. Part of her wanted to call the Doctor. Call him and ask for all the answers. He would know. He knew everything there ever **was** about the man leaving the Hub with the android for patrol.

But even as her aging hand reached out for it, she knew the act was futile.

Instead she dialed for Skypoint.

She an Quincy needed to have a few words on what to do about Captain Jack Harkness.

He thought he'd had an idea of what _patrol_ meant. A standard weevil hunt. As it turned out he was wrong. Trailing behind the inexhaustible android, even Jack had a hard time keeping up. They were chasing what he considered a common grifter who'd happened to get her greedy purple hands on a very dangerous piece of technology.

She'd popped up on Murdoch's internal radar when he scanned a crowd of shoppers and identified her as a shape shifter class D. Whatever that meant, Jack sure didn't like it.

"Alley 271. You will guard this end," Murdoch said monotonously, standing like a flesh coated steel pillar on the sidewalk. "I will circle around to guard the other, and we will catch her in a pincer maneuver."

"Yeah, sure," Jack said. "You do that." His words were spoken to air as the android had already left him. He pulled out his squareness gun and turned off the safety before edging into the alley.

It wasn't often Jack ran out of breath. As far as aerobics went, he knew he was still in excellent shape. He could outrun the Doc if he'd wanted to. He had done it on a few occasions recently. No one else could boast the same save his enemies. But this guy was a machine. **Literally.**

As he went deeper into the alley, he could feel the world outside it slipping away. As he focused solely on what lay ahead, the world behind him faded.

He heard a sound, turned towards it with gun raised. Claws, small, scraping against the pavement.

He saw Murdoch now on the other side. But not their quarry. Perhaps the purple girl hadn't come this way after all.

There was a scream.

Jack moved, closing the gap and aimed upwards towards the source. Murdoch met him as jointly they became aware of other movement above. Jack's thumb flipped a switch on his squareness gun, changing the setting before loosing a pulse.

In the shadows of the building, glass shattered as a hellish cry cut through the air. Jack didn't have time to think as a purple feathered body crashed down. It slammed against the pavement in a flurry of feathers and blood seconds after Jack and Murdoch had moved out of the way.

"What the hell was that?" Jack shouted as Murdoch calmly opened his wrist, revealing a series of wires and a panel.

"Field report, Zone five," he said calmly. "Alley 271 in sector 16. Infection sighting. Agent recommends immediate containment."

Jack was still staring for a second longer before hearing the faint, garbled voice of the woman they'd been chasing. Her arms were still in the shape of feathered wings, the form of her attempted escape.

"There is nothing that can be done," Murdoch said flatly when he noticed Jack's focus.

"We can't just leave her here."

Before Jack could protest further, he saw a familiar shape of cold steele flesh before his face. He felt the faint breeze as the bullet passed by him and lodged itself between the eyes of the thief turned victim.

"Search the body for the platinum cased warp star."

"You didn't even give-"

The android stared at him when Jack had risen up to look him in the eye.

"Your time away from Earth has made your convictions weak. You can no longer perform the duties required of you."

"You stone cold metal hearted son of a bitch!"

I am stating fact based on the evidence presented before me, Captain Harkness." Murdoch knelt on the opposite side of the corpse and searched it for the warp star. He found it on a chain buried deep in the back pocket of her jeans.

Murdoch was meticulous, emotionless as he took her wallet, memorizing her vital information before dropping it beside her.

Jack, tearing his attention away from the disturbing sight now turned his eyes to the building where he had fired on the creature which had caught their thief. Narrowing his eyes, he could have sworn he saw it looking back at him through the broken pane of a fourth story window. "Hey big guy," he called. "What's this left hand building for?"

"It is not relevant."

"It is to me," Jack snapped back harshly. "what-"

"Condemned by UNIT during the occupation of Zone 5. It has recently been acquired by the Lilith Corporation and is slated for demolition on-"

"Yeah yeah..." Jack said, processing the information. "Okay, do you suppose there are squatters? Maybe camping out until demolition day?"

"It is not relevant."

"Something in there killed this woman," Jack said. "Something I shot, probably injured. You heard that scream!"

"It appears she was in the form of an avian at-"

"So it was a cat! But I think we should go up there, poke around. Something doesn't feel **right** here." He chewed on his inner cheek. Something here wasn't sitting well with him. There was a vibe, a sense, that this city he once chose over the Doctor himself was not the way it should have been. Aside from the alien immigrants everywhere... there was a sickness in Cardiff. A sickness rotting within that was just below the surface of perception.

"Murdoch," Jack said at last, a visage of his former authority. "You go on ahead to the Hub and get that warp star sealed off. It cracks, this world's done for."

"You will return with me."

He was silent, looking back up to the window. There was no changing the metal man's mind then. Jack made mental note to come back on his own to have a look. "What about the body?"

"Xaxian. Little more than the homeless. None will acknowledge-"

"You ring up Martha and report it tin man or you'll be missing a processor. I won't just leave her like this."

There was an uneasy silence that passed before finally Murdoch nodded. "It would be the logical action to remove the carcass and minimalise exposure of our involvement." He opened his wrist again, speaking calmly into the speaker. "This is M. Pickup required in zone 5, sector 16. Biohazard status One."

After a buzz, the little hatch was closed. The android stated back at him again, almost smug... if such machines could be smug. "Does this satisfy your base need for compassion?"

The captain didn't answer. Instead he stalked back out of the alley. For the briefest of moments, Jack agreed with Mudoch's claim. He was getting soft. Five years ago he wouldn't have thought twice about leaving the corpse behind with the trash. He'd even taken pride in crafting a clever cover story for the police.

He shook his head, clearing these thoughts away as he buried his hands in the pockets of his greatcoat.


	7. CH16 and CH17

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
CHAPTERS 16-18**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 16**

Jack had spent the day in a mood. He took in the sights, the changes to his former territory. Quickly after the shape shifter incident that morning, he'd decided Murdoch was on his shit-list.

They'd had a crew clean up the body, just as his unwanted partner had told him. Now at the end, they returned to the warehouse marked **Haversham Office Supply Co.** in what had once been a thriving centre of commerce during his tenure.

"I will escort the Hostile. You will deliver the contraband."

Jack looked over his shoulder at the sleeping weevil. It had been a comfort to the old soldier to know some things never change... despite the fact this particular creature had been quite tame. Docile even.

"I think I can handle Ugly back there."

"You do not possess the required clearance to-"

"Fine fine," Jack snapped in frustration. He wouldn't have even played by the rules if it weren't for the knowledge that Martha was calling the shots. If it were anyone else, sans the Doctor, he would have taken off long before now.

He pulled on the handle of the door, having to kick open the door in order to get out after a close call with a double decker bus earlier in the day. Slamming it shut, Jack moved around to the back. The Captain met the android, who wasted no time jerking open the back doors.

The weevil, in its own sort, whimpered as the machine pulled it from the security of the van's dark back-end. Jack reached in when it was clear and took the two titanium cases where they had stored their day's finds.

"You will take the elevator to floor six. Admiral Milligan will-"

"Shut it, tin man. I've been doing this gig before you were ever switched on. Go take your pet to the cells."

Shifting the weight of the cases, Jack left the machine and his prisoner to close the van up on their own.

Martha had begun sorting through and cataloguing the catches of the day after her old friend had dropped them off on the desk she commandeered for her stay.

Jack had taken note of the name plate, tarnished an misshapen. Rank, two capitol J, and the surname. These he committed to memory.

He'd enjoyed waiting in the main office chamber until the homicidal android showed back up. Rather than listen to him cite regulation and policy, Jack opted to dig around in the computers.

Though first impression of them had been that the systems were far beyond the work of Toshiko, his own knowledge of far more sophisticated technology was no match for the encryptions.

His first order of business was to orient himself in Time. Catch up on the last two and a half decades. What he found was surprising, even for him.

Gwen's information was hard to find, along with any on her husband. It was to be expected after Martha told him she'd gone underground. Remembering she'd been very pregnant the last he'd seen of her, the logical step had been to check birth certificates starting two to three months after he had left. There were only a small handful that fit the facts but all were blocked from his access. No amount of what the Doctor called _jggery-pokery_ could reveal them to him.

Closer to his immediate time, Jack learned the Queen had died, Charles became king, and promptly allowed parliament to run his country into the ground before his own mysterious death. Jack was reading up on the circumstances surrounding it when he heard a crunch.

"William's king now." Another crunch.

Jack narrowed his eyes to try and divine a face from the faint reflection in the screen. It was the vague form of a man.

Turning around, he quickly took notice of the young man's lean frame and the Red Delicious he put to his mouth for another bite.

"You work here?"

A crunch. Brown eyes narrowed on him in a look of severe sarcasm as he chewed. "Obviously, Captain Obvious," the young man struggled out around the macerated apple in his mouth. "Heard from the Admiral about your patrol. Glad I'm not the only one who can't stand the sardine can."

The younger wiped his hand absently on his jeans before offering it to Jack. The captain took it as he inspected the young man's face carefully.

"Do I know you?"

"Eh?" The young man said. "Oh right... time traveler. Maybe? You ever been to a place called Cassville?" he asked, then continued. "Small place, tucked in the great Appalachians 'cross the pond."

"Explains the drawl," Jack muttered to himself, then raised his voice a little louder. "Can't say that I have."

"Musta been New York then. Only other place I've been besides here. Well, here and Scotland." He took another bite off his apple.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but the younger was faster on the tongue. "Enough about me," he managed to get out around the apple before swallowing the fruit. "Saw you catching up on your history there. Mostly boring red tape and politico. Basics that matter you'll find on the Wiki. Well, that and the most complete list of James Bond movies and merchandise that's ever existed. The tech boy claims Wiki's developed an AI and happens to like Bond. I think it's just a classic case of deus ex machina. A James Bond lovin ghost hauntin the hell outta Wikipedia."

He laughed, shaking his head and glancing at his snack again before tossing the remains in the nearest bin. "Anyway, William's king now. The UK is officially an empire again, and good thing too. I was getting tired of hearing that the US was constantly trying to take over all interplanetary affairs. Not that I hate my mother country, but most of the ones in power are a bunch of..." He paused, tapping his cheek in thought. Jack was thankful for the pause, and was able to get two cents in.

"I didn't get your name," he said, laying the trap.

But the younger man, seeming to snap out of his thoughts as if having the attention span of a newt, grinned like the cat who got the cream. It matched the unruly mop of brown on his head that seemed as apooft with amusement as its owner. "I didn't give it." His tone was, despite his expression, quite sinister with a mask of forced politeness. "You should check out 2024 and 2029. Those were some wild years. Everything changed... speaking of," he said, glancing at his watch. "I need to do the same. Promised a purple and black striped woman roses and a kiss."

"What's-"

"See you tonight, perhaps? My boss said you might like the opera. Left you a pair of tickets for the magnificent Jessica O'Mally."

"Is that an invitation?"

He laughed. "Bring your own date Captain. If I come with you, someone might get jealous." He fished around in his pocket for something, pulling out a paper bag of sweets and walked away.

Jack watched the denim and t-shirt clad man go, noticing at the last moment before the elevator that the young man wore bright red trainers with his blue colored clothes.

He gave a quick glance towards the silent mechanoid who sat as if a statue, unblinking before the set of LED screens at the monitoring station.

"Murdoch," he began. "Who was that?"

Without turning, the android spoke. "Commander J. Harborne, director of facility 3 in the heart of Zone 5. Former New York City detective and consult for the Crown on matters of interspecies-"

"Okay okay," he said, almost sorry he'd asked. Now, Jack thought, he had a face to attach to the name plate on the desk. "Real young to be doing this job."

"He is more than he looks," was the monotonous reply.

Jack turned his attention back to the computer to resume sifting through the last 25 years of history, craving solid facts.

Jack had just straightened his shirt when there came a knock at his door. Hoping it wasn't Murdoch, he went to it and checked the screen. There stood Martha in an evening gown. Dressed to the nines and holding a garment bag.

"I know you're there Jack. Open the door," she said, her finger pressed against the speaker outside.

Grinning, he brushed the panel that did as she bid him. When it pulled into the wall, she was greeted by a 2000 year old smile of a man clad no different than the morning. "That won't do," she said.

"It's the best I've got."

"Not quite. Here." She shoved the bag at him and slipped past.

"That shade of red suits you."

"It had better. It's the only one I have that's good for jogging. And it has one of those hidden pockets. I lifted it from the TARDIS, so it's got all the perks."

Jack, standing with the bag strapped across his arms, laughed. "Bottomless pocket?"

She nodded, giving a giggle of her own. "It's amazing the stuff you can put in it. And this fabric is so durable. Softest satin in the universe, but strong as steel. This dress is absolutely bulletproof."

"Even the straps?" Jack asked curiously.

"Especially the straps," she confirmed. "Now shook. Get changed and meet me in the lobby. Don't forget the tickets."

Martha didn't have to wait long for the dashing time traveler to appear. She greeted him warmly, and he tugged at the bowtie at his neck. He'd never liked those things... except for the time he'd thought they had become high fashion during the twenties... But that was another story for another day.

Linked arm in arm, the Admiral and her Captain stepped out for a night at the opera.

"It's a good thing we have the box," Martha said. "We can keep a better eye on things from this vantage point."

"I've got a feeling this isn't just a date."

Martha smirked. "Never just a date with you around."

"So what's the story?"

She nodded. "Apparently, the singer has been receiving threats from her dead husband. Which is impossible due to the fact he's still very much alive, and very much in our custody. She was a spy for Moscow at one time, and it is in our best interests to assure her safety while in our jurisdictions. Murdoch will be leaving with her tonight as she heads north to Edinborough."

Jack's face fell. "So we're babysitting."

"No. Edward decoded a message we intercepted. Her former tribe plans to strike tonight. We're here to protect the citizens from the crossfire. My boys are down below, ready to babysit the diva."

Jack nodded, glancing down at the programme in his hand while tugging at the bowtie around his neck with the other. He wasn't fond of monkey suits. Something bad never failed to happen whenever he wore them. His ears pricked up, listening for their moment to spring into action. Instead he caught a familiar song instead. "I know this. Tosh used to... What's someone doing singing Linkin Park songs at an opera?"

He looked back to the programme, mentally ticking off each song.

"It's all the rage right now. Redoing rock music from 1980 to 2009 in operatic form."

The captain listened closer to the music. Something was off. He recognized it alright despite the eerie way the actual music had been reformatted but still retained it's distinct flavor of the time period it came from. The language. That's what was wrong. That's what was so off about it.

"Sardosian," he whispered to himself. Jack's memory of 21st century history contradicted the very good show going on before his eyes.

All was quiet, as far as danger was concerned, well into the intermission.

At which point Martha said, "Come on," and handed him a scanner.

"Oooh Martha," Jack replied. "I didn't know you were this kinda gal on a first date."

The Admiral nearly spluttered in laughter. "First date? Why captain, are you insinuating that we're starting an affair?"

Reaching over he gently brushed her cheek with his hand, the other waving back and forth across the crowd in the lobby. Leaning in, he put his lips close to her ear. Jack's voice was just barely over a whisper. "What secrets are you hiding from me, Martha?"

She didn't answer him. For the briefest moment, Jack thought she'd become angry at him. Before he could decipher the truth of the situation, the scanner went off. The sound of it ringing in Jack's mind like a rather loud payphone. It broke his attention away, his free hand pressing against his ear while the other gripped the scanner tighter against his will. His mouth twisted in a cry of sudden pain.

He felt the machine jerked from his hand, at which point the sound stopped. It left behind a strange buzzing, but otherwise he was alright.

Opening his tightly clamped eyes, he saw Martha, glasses on and inspecting the piece of equipment. A habit she no doubt picked up from their mutual friend. "Bollocks," she said. "Bastard Murdoch recalibrated the thing. Here." She shoved another scanner into his hand. Rather than the ringing, he felt a slight pulse at the back of his skull. Passing it over a few nearby bodies, he found it to be attuned to heartbeats.

"It's set for Sardosian," the old doctor said, smacking the more sensitive instrument against her palm harshly. "But you'll get residual feedback from others in the range."

"When I hit my mark?"

"Marks. There may be more than one assassin. Sardosians rarely hunt alone."

He nodded. It made sense. "What signal will I get?"

"Initially, I don't know. These things are only slightly psychic. You get the basics on screen there. Infrared, tech sweep, radiation and so forth. The rest is a guide. Sort of like a metal detector. The sounds and sensations..."

Jack nodded in understanding. "Let's split up, we'll cover more ground that way."

"Good idea." Smiling, the Admiral left him, blending in seamlessly with the crowd. Her ease at such a skill probed his memory, bringing briefly to the surface of his thoughts the reason she now had this tactic in her personal arsenal. Shaking his head, he moved in the opposite direction.

The vast range of colorful languages in the entrance hall surprised him. A cacophony worthy of the liveliest taverns at any port in deep space. Mingled with an array of easily distinguishable Welsh and English, he found himself yearning for the thrills of the Agency again. These things, these thoughts filled his mind while he worked. He hadn't noticed at first when the beats had changed. No longer the fast twitterings of the Xaxians, nor the even paced thumps of the average human blood pumper.

For some time now he had focused, unintentionally, on a set of four. One. Two. Three. Four. Over and over again. It was both a comfort and a thing of fear. Before he could shake the memory of a year in hell from his thoughts, he heard a familiar voice.

"Why good Captain!" he cried out when Jack had come to its source. "How fares the evening?"

It was the young man he'd spoken to earlier in the day. The one Murdoch identified as Harborne. Jack looked back into the smiling face of the young commander. His mouth, for a change, locked shut as he had suddenly become lost for words.

A hand slapped his back in good cheer. "I was just telling the lovely goddess Jessica here that it's your first time at the show, and that I hope you're enjoying it."

"You flatter me, James," she said, her English thick with the equivalent of a Russian accent. She offered her hand to Jack with a smile that betrayed the icy white skin of her. Pale blue ivory in a warm mouth of green flesh beamed at him.

"Aren't you going to test me now, Mr. Harkness?" she asked, looking at the scanner.

"Yes, yes," Jack said, passing it over her hand. Surprisingly the sound cute he received was Rose Tyler's ringtone... An annoying techno sound that rather made him want to face own another battalion of Daleks with naught but a fruit knife.

A dull fruit knife at that.

Harborne stood there, grinning like a fool. "I trust everything is in order, Captain?"

Jack wanted to smack that smug look right off his face. As if sensing the hostility, the young commander's hand subtly went to the right hand pocket of his coat. Jack knew to back off... for now. There were more important things, he reminded himself as he swept the scanner back over the commander, and matters to pursue.

"Looking forward to your report, Jack!" the young man called back after him,

Muttering to himself as he started to scan the crowd again, Jack bumped shoulders with another patron.

"Pardon," was all that passed between them as the other went on to rejoin the siren songstress and her talkative companion.

When it registered on Jack to look up and see who he had bumped, Quincy Verta had already gone.

The call for the second half of the show sounded and the audience filed back in.

Captain Harkness returned to the box ahead of his evening's date. He sat scrolling through the data before focusing the scanner on the crowd in their seats below.

"Find anything?"

"One, maybe two."

"Not good..." Martha said discretely as she slipped into her seat. "My boys are back stage, ready to spring."

"Any other news?"

She nodded. "I found my snitch."

"And?"

"He was strung from his nethers in the ladies," she replied with a certain forced calm. "As of this moment, the four of us are officially flying blind."

**CHAPTER 17**

Flying blind. The Doctor had used the expression once or twice when describing the Tardis randomizer. To hear Martha say it, it meant something far more sinister. "You found him in the ladies."

She nodded, pointing a red gloved finger discretely at an usher. "There's one. Male. Most likely a drone. Question is... Who's pulling the strings?"

"That brings the total to what? Three? Four?"

She nodded. "Hand that back now. We've got all we can find. Did you bring any artillery?" Martha asked as she put the scanners back into her pockets.

"Wasn't expecting trouble."

She sighed. "Thought so." She dropped a pistol in his lap. "It's on loan. I want it back when this is over."

"I like it when a woman takes charge," he quipped.

Harborne stood just off stage, watching the Sardosi singer closely, absently tugging on the collar of his shirt. "Have I told you how much I hate this monkey suit?"

"Many times, sir," Quincy replied dryly, checking that the pistol tucked into the back of his cummerbund was still in place.

"Why do they call them monkey suits anyway? Why not penguin suits? They look more like penguins than monkeys."

Quincy, while his obnoxious boss and mission's partner continued babbling, scanned the crowd. Rather, what he could see of it from this angle. He hoped they would make their move soon. While he liked the opera, and he liked Jessica O'Mally... he didn't like them both at the same time. Not even in the same room. She was an excellent singer, in his opinion... but this particular idea of her's... Rock songs and pop songs and opera?

In his opinion it wasn't her brightest idea ever. Then again, the general public ate it up.

While pondering this, her hardly noticed when Harborne leapt out of hiding and into the spotlight of the show.

Drawing his weapon, Quincy joined him.

"What the hell?" Jack shouted as Martha left the box.

Without warning, she'd jumped the balcony rail and landed below in a rolling crouch. Jack flew for the balcony exit, pushing his way down the ramp to the stairs at the far end.

The pistol was cocked and at the ready as he burst out into the crowd that had been previously below him. Gunfire rang out through the concert hall. There were too many civilians for Jack to get a clear shot off. Instead, he pushed his way through, trying to find Martha in the madness.

When he found her, he saw two men in tuxedos rushing from the stage with the singer. A few men followed.

"Jack!" Martha shouted as the Captain began after them. "Jack! We hold the line!" Her words were spat out as she fired on an advancing Sardosi tribesman. His blood was a sickly yellow as it exploded outward from its back as the bullet passed through. It didn't even slow the man down as he raised his gun.

Martha's eyes widened as she realized what it was. She tapped her ear for a second. "Murdoch, we have biohazard. I repeat, biohazard. Mauve alert." She pressed her back against a column to dodge a wave of electric death. "Get your positronic ass down here NOW."

_"Would you like me to bring a cleaning crew, Madame?"_

"What part of Mauve alert do you NOT understand?" she snapped as she checked around the column. "Just do it!" Stepping out into the open, she fired on an approaching Sardosi warrior.

Jack was confident Martha was holding her own in the main seating of the auditorium. The woman was a tough old bird, he was sure of that. It's why he had no problem following the singer and her guards backstage. That, and someone had to cover their escape.

He was surprised to find they had holed up in a dressing room rather than leave the building. One of the men were in the hall, taking potshots from right outside the door. For a moment, the scene seemed surreal. Almost as if that pistol didn't belong in those hands. From behind, the young man looked like another form. But when he glanced over his shoulder to see Jack, cut a smile as he reloaded, the Captain came back to his senses.

"Behind you!" the young Harborne shouted. Jack whirled around just in time to dodge the electric bolt and land a bullet between the eyes of the Sardosi tribesman that had come after him.

"Hold the position," Harborne barked to the much older Captain. "Not a single soul gets near Agent O'Mally!" His words came with more authority than Jack had expected to come from the young man. They were shouted between shots. Jack was slowly backing towards him, anticipating more of the enemy.

Instead, he received the gift of the Nightingale. "Did you get anything on you?" Martha called down the hallway.

"No," the two men chorused, then Harborne; "Biohazard mauve. Is Murdoch-"

"He's on his way with a cleaning crew," she replied, checking her ammunition briefly. "Standard quarantine. Police have already secured the audience and are waiting for the teams to arrive. Is O'Mally secure?"

"Quin is with her."

"Any injury?"

Harborne shook his head. "We'll hang around till the teams arrive. Then we're taking her to a safe location."

Martha nodded, sliding her weapon back into the hidden pocket of her dress. "Go in and see to her. Jack, you're with me," she said, stepping over the bodies carefully. "And don't get anything on you."

After the events of the day, Jack found himself with more questions he couldn't answer. One phone call and he knew he'd learn them all... But did he really want to know?

Sitting in his suite, he couldn't help but think about the opera. About the readings he pulled from the Sardosian singer and her companion of the evening. Of the fire fight and the biohazard as a result.

Martha was cold. She was calculating as she had dealt with the situation. The machine-man was running tests, even as the others had divided up and gone their ways for the night. Checking the blood of the dead to see what had made them so bloodthirsty. Sardosi, he knew, were naturally predisposed to violence. It was their nature. But these...

After he had seen the destruction he knew something had to be different about these warriors. It had almost been as if they were dead, yet still walking and acting as if they were living. Drones.

The story Martha had fed him didn't seem to fit. No one would send that many assassins after a single person, especially a single woman. There had to be more at work that she wasn't telling him.

He rose from the chair facing the balcony and fetched himself a cup of tea before taking a look at the television.

"Bingo..."

Grinning to himself, he noticed it was wired directly into the wall. Further examination offered up that the television was one of Earth's latest models. He could easily convert it for what he needed.

Hours later, and after much tinkering, Jack Harkness was surfing the internet and gathering the information he needed.

Standing in front of the television, sipping his eighth cup of hot coffee he found what he was looking for.

"Humans and their social networks," he laughed lightly to himself as he closely examined the Facebook pages of famed opera singer Jessica O'Mally and lowly Torchwood operative James Harborne.

Jack had been waiting in the lobby when Murdoch arrived to retrieve him. His second day at the Hub was uneventful for the most part. There was, he noted, a few of the bodies from the day before stored in the morgue's deep freeze.

The only other person he saw in the offices had been Martha, who suggested he head down to the firing range to get some practice in. While always a good idea, he opted to dig around in the computer systems. Find out more about the strange leader of this branch's team and the all important singer they were to protect the night before.

He did not find much more than what had been gleaned from their social networking profiles during the night. She was a singer. He was former NYPD. Both were ex-patriots of a country called 'New Dixie Territories' where the Deep South region of the United States had been. Both from the same small town. He had assumed they at least had gone to the same schools in a backwater town like that.

He was browsing through old medical records, trying to find something, anything to gain insight into the mysterious pair when the alarms went off.

Jack rubbed at his eyes, sitting up straight and looking towards the mechanical man at the surveillance station. "What the hell is going on?"

"There has been a record breaking spike in rift activity centered in Ground Zero. I am monitoring the situation."

Martha emerged from the hallway leading to the office she had usurped from its owner. "Murdoch, what's the situation?"

"I am monitoring-"

"Rift spike," Jack said, cutting him off. "Record breaking apparently."

"That's not good... Location? Get me visuals."

Jack was leaning over one of Murdoch's shoulders as his fingers flew across the keypads before him. Each screen flickered between static and different angles from CCTV across the city before finally they each stopped. Each screen showed an all too familiar and eerie sight to Jack.

Subconsciously his hand went to his abdomen, his body remembering what his mind had tried at one time to completely block out. One of the many reasons he had left Earth behind despite his attachment to it. The bomb that blew him, literally, to smithereens. Destroyed him utterly, only for him to regrow each cell. Each bone and muscle. Organ and limb. Inwardly, he shuddered as he looked on the open crater that had been both his home and workplace for longer than he cared to admit.

"There seems to be a large mass attempting to break through the rift barrier. Running technological scans as well as biological," Murdoch monotoned.

Martha was at another station, one hand to her earpiece the other tapping a datapad as quickly as she could. "Damn it. Eddie's not answering his bloody phone!"

"Keep trying Madame," Murdoch said as Jack went to stand behind her.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"Run every scan you can think of on that energy signature. I want to know everything possible about what we're dealing with."

"I love it when you take charge."

She smiled, and Jack knew it was forced. "Married, remember." She went to Murdoch, trying to call Eddie again. This time, she got through...

But she wasn't the only one.

"We've got live ones!" Jack called as three sets of eyes, one of which were more like optical transmitters, watched the first of many wraith-like figures emerge from the crater.

"Finally, Edward," Martha said, her earpiece picking up her voice. "I know you're linked to our system from home. Are you watching this?... Theories. What do your scans detect? They appear to be akin to ghosts." Her face was pulled into an expression of consternation as she listened to the Cardiff team's technological genius.

After a few moments, she saw a larger figure emerge from the crater. The picture was grainy, starting to go to static.

"Murdoch! Don't let the feed drop!"

"There seems to be a disruptor transmission interfering with the signal, Madame."

Jack gasped. He couldn't tell if it was shock, surprise, or admiration. Not that it mattered what it stemmed from at this moment. "Is that..."

"Owen..." Martha said just as the call on the other end was dropped.

"I was going to say a machine gun arm, but that works, too," Jack said but couldn't get the lightheartedness into his voice. Instead it sounded cynical and a little disgruntled.

Martha turned quickly as each screen went to static save one. "Jack, you're with me. Kit up and let's go."

"Madame, I will continue to monitor the situation from here."

She nodded. "Get a hold of the Hardy Boys while you're at it. We may need backup."

The android nodded as he placed his full attention on the matter at hand. "Of course."

Martha drove the van like a madwoman through the dark streets of Cardiff. Some of it, Jack recognized from the old days. Other parts had become small villages of their own. Poorly constructed shanty towns left over from the UNIT militarization of the area when refugees of numerous species were forced to live in a squalor less than even the least humane dog fighting kennels.

Jack grabbed the railing above the passenger door to keep from falling out of his seat as she squealed around a corner, narrowly missing a huddle of smokers outside a nightclub.

"We want to get there fast, but alive!" Jack snapped at her.

"No time for safety. We may have a level 9 breach."

"Sounds bad."

"You don't know the half of it. A few years ago, we had a breach of the rift barrier. Jack and Quin had parallel versions of themselves come through, followed by a supercharged Rift-powered Master and an army of basically evil Time Lords. It took six months to clean up the aftermath. We're still finding empty Dalek shells in Scotland." She squealed the van into another hairpin turn, slamming the gas as she barreled down an alley.

The large white delivery van burst out a block away from the site. Already there had been a blockade set up.

"Bloody flatfoots," she barked angrily as she forced herself to slow the rolling death machine down. "Be ready to jump out. You saw the size of that weapon. We may not be recognized as allies, so be ready for a fight."

Jack nodded as the blockade came nearer. They came to a stop. Martha grabbed her rifle and bandolier, slamming the door behind her. Jack felt a little under-armed as he checked his pistols. Not his old standard, but the small automatics would do in a pinch.

The pair went straight for the line, pushing their way through.

"Dame Martha Jones, OSA Enforcer," Martha snapped, flashing an ID. She slipped it into her back pocket before cocking her rifle. "Get these onlookers out of here before I have you all rounded up for treason."

She didn't stop to hear the bewildered replies of the police as she strode fearlessly into what Torchwood called Ground Zero... and the rest of the country called the Cardiff Crater.

Jack's stomach was in knots as he trod the ground he had unwillingly destroyed over 20 years ago.


	8. CH18 thru CH21

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
CHAPTERS 18-21**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 18**

_**TWO DAYS EARILIER...**_

He was glad to be rid of her. Though he had called Glasgow and invited Admiral Milligan down to Cardiff himself, it didn't mean he was happy about it. His options had been that or leave Captain Harkness in his basement forever and risk creating more paradoxes than he knew what to do with.

That was not a good option, despite its appeal.

As he emerged from the narrow hall leading to his office, he found Quincy at his computer, sipping a hot cup of coffee.

"What, none for me?"

"You were in a meeting," the other replied, his voice thick with a Mid-western American accent. Harborne smiled to himself. That accent always crept into his voice the more tired he became. "The Admiral asked me to draw up options for the Captains accommodations during his stay."

"Yeah?" he asked, moving to look over his shoulder, standing a little too close for the other's comfort.

"Sir?"

"What? You don't bring me coffee. How am I supposed to enjoy the scent of fresh brewed elixir of eternal life without a cup of my own?"

Quincy rolled his eyes and picked up the cup. It was only half full. He offered it to his boss. "Take it. I can make another."

"But you already had your mouth on this."

"You're not seriously going to argue about that right now. It's late, I'm busy, and you just came out of a meeting with a woman you haven't really been able to stand since you were 12. The last of which I blame spending most of your young existence in an extremely racist and conservative region of the former United States."

"I can't help it," Jack Harborne whined, then sipped the coffee. It seemed to placate him for the moment, as he moved to sit at another station and prop his feet up. "So what are the plans tonight?"

"I've located a reasonable hotel for Mr. Harkness. It is close enough to base that we can keep a close eye on him while he can have a sense of autonomy. I've booked a rather spacious suite. We're going to need to supply him with food, funds, and clothing."

The young leader smirked. "I've got clothing covered. He's not much bigger than me, so anything else we can guess-"

"I've a good eye for sizes, sir. There will be no guessing."

"Do you have a storage unit full of the Captain's belongings? No? Didn't think so," he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. It had been a rather long day, and even the ever spry Commander was starting to feel it.

"Okay, you do what you need to do. I'll send the kids home."

"But the night watch-"

"Admiral's orders, Quin. My hands are, metaphorically speaking, tied." Placing both feet on the floor, he grinned and set the empty mug on the desk where his feet had previously been. He made sure not to use a coaster.

Tapping his earpiece as he stood, he walked away to start his final routine for the night.

"Alright girls, and Matilda," he said as he reached his office. "Pack your bags and meet me in the warehouse."

Fifteen minutes later, the Commander was joined by his team in the warehouse above. First Quincy, looking immaculate despite his weariness. Head down, hand gripping the stylus loosely as he worked on his PRM, banging out the final details of the night's plans as he walked. Without even a glance up, he easily fell into place a few feet away from his leader.

Matilda and her incapacitated brother were next, having come up the maintenance lift. Her messenger bag slung over one shoulder, the strap crossing her chest. Her brother in his awkward cast supported by her other shoulder with an arm wrapped around his back.

"I'll never get him into the bloody car."

Jack Harborne laughed. "Take the van."

"No."

"Take it."

She sighed. "No thanks..."

"Well, you can always take my car. The front should be just roomy enough to accommodate your brother's condition."

The techno-wizard whined. "Don't I have a say in this?"

"No," all three of his co-workers intoned together.

Quincy tossed over his keys. Mattie caught them easily. "Anything else, Fearless Leader?" she asked.

He nodded. "The Admiral's given us a two day, two night vacation in the glamorous city of Venice."

Eddie smiled broadly. "I've always wanted to go to Venice!"

"No. Just a brief vacation while she deals with our guest. But you'd best be back bright and early after. Can't afford to take more time than necessary. It's a dangerous weevil infested world out there."

"Anything else?"

"Well-"

"No," Quincy interrupted. "But we'll take the Jag."

"What?"

"You're taking my car. I want the Jag. We have errands to run for Martha before we can sign off for the night."

Mattie grumbled under her breath, fishing in her bag for her keys. She continued to grumble as she handed them over. "You be careful with him. He's a fine tuned piece of machinery. One scratch, one weird sound and I'll feed you to whatever the hell tried to eat my brother in that shopping mall."

The two men nodded before she half dragged, half led her brother away. "So, what's on the itinerary first Mr. Verta?"

It had been a long night. The fact they were in Mattie's jag didn't serve to help his mood as much as he thought it would. They couldn't keep as much in it as he had wanted, so the duo had to make repeat trips to the hotel Quincy had selected for the Captain.

After hauling groceries twice from the all-night supermarket near the base, Harborne had decided it was time to head over to the storage lot.

As they pulled up, Quincy was conversing with Martha via headset to figure out whether Captain Jack wanted Visa, MasterCard, or something else. The young commander paid it little mind as he waited for then passed through the gate.

"We're looking for storage locker I-42."

Quincy sighed. "We could buy him new clothes."

"No. Because you can't just walk into an army surplus store these days, or this time of night and go 'Hey mate, I need these impossible to find boots and a WW2 RAF American volunteer greatcoat with bottomless pockets.' They'd look at me like I'm mad."

"You ARE mad, sir."

"That's not the point," he mumbled, turning the car down a row. "Now keep your eyes peeled."

"You're not supposed to drive-"

"I don't hear your eyes peeling, Quin."

The end of the night's shopping and gathering found the pair with a car full of beyond retro clothes that smelled strongly of moth balls, and parked outside Quincy's favorite store. Run by a strange little man who, as luck would have it, only opened his store at night.

Commander Harborne was outside, refusing to go in. The last time he had, he'd nearly been eaten by that strange little man with vampiric tendencies. It wasn't that the man was a vampire. Far from it. He was simply an alien trying so hard to be a vegetarian but sometimes liked to take a nip at his day walking customers.

It wasn't the shopkeeper's fault if his race was so sensitive to the light of a yellow sun that they burst into flames after blistering at the very touch of it from even the darkest daytime shade.

Quite bored with the games on his wristband, he decided to do some Googling as he waited. It didn't hurt to keep a sharp eye out for strange news stories.

"Thanks again Xero!" Quin called as the chimes above him, well, chimed. The office manager found his boss busy with his wristband, and decided to get his attention with the element of surprise.

That was how pink and yellow wool got stuck up the Commander's nose, and why for the remainder of the night, he kept wrinkling it and sneezing. The sneezes were followed quickly, the entire ride home, with the statement "You know I'm bloody allergic to bloody sheep you bloody malevolent villain!"

He sighed when he clambered out of the elevator with the last of the bags. The final trip to the hotel, and then he could, hopefully, go to bed. But that was still a way off yet.

"How the hell do you still have energy?" Harborne said, nearly dragging the bags down the hall. It was the fifth trip to the hotel. The wee hours of the morning dwindled. Time off was just beyond his reach.

And he craved... a banana split. A favorite snack before bed.

"I've hit my third stride," Quincy replied as he let himself into the Captain's suite. "Set up the kitchenette. I'll take care of the clothing."

Harborne rubbed at his eye with a groan. "Are you sure? I'm supposed to be banned from kitchens."

"You're not eleven, James. You'll work it out. Now stop complaining and set up the kitchen. The sooner we get done, the sooner you can have your bloody banana split."

The reminder of his routine snack got the young Commander back on track. Quickly, he put everything in the general area of where he had assumed things should go. After a while, he got bored and simply shoved entire bags of things into the cabinets, leaving the coffee for Quincy to deal with when he came back out.

"What about this knitting crap?" he called towards the bedroom.

"Don't touch the wool!"

"Baaah!"

"Don't bleat at me either!"

"I'll bleat if I want to!" Harborne said as he carefully, using a plastic shopping bag, handled the skeins of woolen yarn. He put them in the basket, arranging the various bits and bobs with them.

A few moments later, Quincy emerged from the back with a sigh. "Well, that's done. I could go for a Chinese."

"Coffee."

"You'll be up all night."

"No. Coffee," Harborne said, pointing to the kitchen. "I'm not allowed near dispensers either. Not after the Disney incident."

"You're impossible..."

The night was, after finishing the errands, uneventful. Save for a quick trip around a nearby park with a rather overzealous Golden Retriever at near daybreak.

As for the fearless leader, once he stepped through his front door, he went on auto-pilot. Fumbling sleepily in the kitchen with a spoon and a carton of ice cream, he had his banana split...

Leaving a sticky trail of cooling hot fudge, melted ice cream, and banana peel in his wake. Sated, he passed out cold leaving his roommate to clean up the mess behind him.

**CHAPTER 19**

He woke up to midday sun filtering in through the window. Staring up at the ceiling, he took a moment to try and recall where he was. How he got there. And why he was there when he should have been at work.

Sitting up, he felt the weight of a chain against his neck. He rubbed his eyes before blearily looking down to see the tarnished silver chain hanging there against his chest, just below the only scar on his otherwise flawless, immortal flesh.

A stylized S, a symbol of a bygone era. A reminder of the darker side of Time and its custodians.

Groaning, he swung his legs over the side of his bed, bare feet touching the cold floor. He wiggled his toes, waiting for the tiles to warm beneath them. Smart-stone. One of the glorious innovations installed into the reconstructed Skypoint Tower.

Yawning and scratching his side, he rose from the queen sized bed and stumbled around in an attempt to get his bearings. One whiff of his self made it clear a shower must come before his clothes.

Twenty minutes later, the sizzling sound of bacon hitting a hot pan drew him from the narrow hall leading to the back of the flat. Following his nose to the kitchen, he found Quincy standing at the stove. The usually immaculate man was, for a surprising change, in business casual.

Sticking a finger in his ear and wiggling it about some in a vain attempt at getting the water out, Harborne sat down in the small alcove that served as a breakfast nook.

"I thought if I made breakfast you would wake up."

"You know me. I always follow my stomach." Jack Harborne smiled, noting the slight change of accent. To most, it was barely audible; that small variation of dialect. "Been watching those old Clint Eastwood flicks again?"

He either didn't hear the question, or chose to ignore it as he set first the cup of hot coffee on the table, followed by a plate covered with a typical Deep South breakfast.

Harborne grabbed up a fork and dug in. "Mmmm... greasy goodness."

"Any plans for today, sir?" he asked, sitting across from the man stuffing his face. Picking up the newspaper, he decided to start reading if only to keep from watching the disaster happing across from him. "You haven't had a day to yourself in six months."

"Well... I wouldn't say to myself," Harborne smirked around five sausage links as Quincy sipped his coffee.

"You know what I mean," he replied in a warning tone without looking up.

"Yeah yeah." He swallowed the mouthful that was attempting to escape with the words. "Not really. Figured I'd sleep in for once."

"Yeah, you've done that, sir."

"Well, my to-do list for the day is accomplished."

"You still need to meet with Martha in an hour about tonight's Opera."

"The Opera? You know I hate-"

"Jonnathan James Harborne," Quincy snapped. Only his green eyes and the top of his head were seen from behind the paper. "You promised me the next day off we both had, you were taking me to the Opera."

"I said it under duress. I was at the business end of a Sontaran blaster! I would have said anything to get you to shut up!"

"As it happens, your ex-wife is singing and needs bodyguards tonight. You're talking to Martha, and we're going."

"Figures... You make me the best breakfast ever only to kill me before the greasy goodness can do it for you."

"Don't make me add walking the dog to the list, James."

He was mucking about in the warehouse in blue jeans and matching dark blue tee. Checking up on various operations while he was there. To those who worked in the warehouse, he was simply Jack, warehouse manager.

Overseer of operations and the man who signed their paychecks. To others employed at Haversham Paper Supply Co. he was Jack, that guy who called the Waste Management department of the company to handle lorry mishaps during product shipping.

Only Waste Management knew that they were sent out to clean up Torchwood's messes. They never spoke a word. Handpicked by the man who now strolled through their department, checking the logs on his day off.

After spending a great deal of the afternoon checking on operations, Harborne went to the world below. Standing in the maintenance lift, the slower of the lifts to the Hub, he geared himself up for the next session with the only person currently on the planet with more authority than himself.

He wasn't looking forward to his meeting with Admiral Martha. There were still a few things to hash out about Torchwood's current situation with its former supreme leader Captain Jack Harkness.

She was at a terminal, munching on a lightly buttered biscuit with a sausage patty and scrambled egg sandwiched in the middle.

"Took you long enough," she said, setting her very late breakfast down and wiping her hands with a napkin proudly displaying the McDonald's logo.

"A bit late for biscuits."

"You've got a bit of dried syrup on your chin," Martha replied as she hit a few keys. "You're here about tonight."

"Yup. Even though I'd rather be at home with the dog."

She smiled, rising from the station and wrapping up her breakfast. "Walk with me."

He grumbled, following his boss as she explained to him the situation. The Opera tonight was a two team operation. Bodyguards for the operatic sensation secretly agent of Torchwood, Jessica O'Mally. And a second team to sweep the crowd.

"We haven't had any problems with the Sardosi since I was a boy," Harborne said as Martha led him into the break room. "I mean, even then it was technically more of a family situation. Her mother tried to marry and then eat my dad and all."

She nodded with a small smile. "I remember that. Nasty business... But that's the problem. Since the queen of the Yngryss was killed, there's been a power vacuum. You know from when you married O'Mally that she's the rightful queen. But since she's been in exile..."

Harborne fiddled with the coffee dispenser, trying to get himself a cup only to find grounds and foam in his mug. "One of her sisters has taken over. Yeah, I hear the chatter."

"Then you also realize that her life is in danger since returning to England. This is where the Yngryss have chosen to settle. There have already been two attempts on her life since her return. Rumors have been circulating about a third attempt. Tonight."

"I thought I had the day off."

"You do. But... You did promise Quincy..."

"So my personal life is the stuff of gossip. Great. What else did that scoundrel tell you?"

She sighed. "It doesn't matter. What's important is that you be prepared for anything. Agent O'Mally's safety is your top priority. She's the biggest asset we have."

They moved back to his own office after struggling desperately with the coffee dispenser to get just a simple cup out. Finally, Martha was forced to pry the commander away from the machine for fear he may accidentally injure himself. Not that it would matter much since he could heal from just about anything. But if he hurt himself, he would utterly destroy the machine. And it was a proven fact that Torchwood could never properly function without coffee... GOOD coffee.

Sitting back behind the desk, looking across to a pouting Harborne, she pulled up a file on the computer. "All other matters aside, we still need to go over what you plan to do about Standing Order 12."

"Well..." he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk. "I've put a little thought into that. One of the agreements we have with Scully and Mulder is we don't get Gwen involved."

"And yet, she was the one who came up with S.O. 12."

"Yup. That's where it stands. We have to notify Gwen the second Jack came back. But we can't do that without losing Matilda."

"And Eddie."

"No... He's working off his debt to society. We keep him, or he goes to prison." Harborne grinned at the thought, then became serious once again. "But the matter still remains. What do we do about Jack? I'm sure the others are trying to find out what's going on. And what are we going to do about names, eh? I'm Jack. He's Jack."

"Trifles."

"And another thing." He wagged his finger at Martha then. "We don't know why he's here. The rat bastard never told me anything about this when I was a kid. Not even an inkling."

"Which is why you can't breathe a word. You can't tell him who you are. What you are. But Jack's a resourceful guy. He'll find out. You must make sure he doesn't find out too much. This is a delicate point in time. Your past. His future. You can't let your judgment slip. Not even for a second."

Quin lay stretched across the couch with a book in his lap. He wasn't sleeping, but he wasn't quite awake either. Lost in that land which existed between the realms of Morpheus and the waking, he allowed his mind to wander.

Imagining a world where things were different. A world where aliens were little green men and friends to humanity. Sometimes he liked to envisage that reality was just like those old vintage television shows of yore. Flying cars zipping across the sky. Robotic maids and meals in a caplet.

Or voyaging across space in a sleek ship like the Enterprise. Exploring strange new worlds and the like without much of a second thought.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling. The stark reminder that life wasn't like that. In fact, it was quite the opposite. But someday... Someday Earth would be different world than this stagnating rock. Someday, the human race would spread across the sky and light up the darkest corners of it. He knew because he had seen it. He had, for the briefest of times, lived it. Yawning, he let his arm fall from the couch; his hand extended to stroke the pelt of the Golden Retriever napping beside him.

She lifted her head and yawned back at him.

"Well, it's not like neither of us have anything better to do, eh Rosie?"

She yawned at him again before rising up and tugging on his sleeve with her teeth.

"Let's see if we can't find something to eat." He sat up and stretched, giving a second yawn. "Now you've got me doing it again."

She barked at him, her tail wagging expectantly as Quin roused himself. Checking his watch, he grumbled. Time to get up anyway. His working night off was about to begin. And he still had to press out the wrinkles in his boss's tuxedo.

"Bloody hell woman! What do you expect me to do? Walk around with my mouth duct taped shut?"

"If you wish to continue your existence, then yes. As for how to deal with that standing order... Let's figure out how and why Jack is here first. After it's sorted, and we've got him dealt with, I'll make contact myself. She knows me, she trusts me."

"For now."

"Hey mister, don't take that tone with me. You're not too old to put over my knee." She smiled kindly at him, despite her remark before one of the sensors in the desk went off. She checked the CCTV. "Looks like the Captain and the tin man are back. You had best get going."

He nodded. "I still don't like this."

"Whatever your issues with your parents are, suck it up and carry on." She went back to work, stressing the point that this meeting was concluded. "I'll see you tonight. Make sure you're armed."

"Yes ma'am," he replied sarcastically, leaving his own office. He stopped by the break room to have another row with the coffee dispenser before giving up and grabbing an apple.

It was a Red Delicious.

He tugged at the tie, attempting to loosen it with a groan. "I hate these things."

"I know, sir."

"C'mon, you don't have to call me that here. We're on a date."

"No. We're working."

"So it's a working date then. Not like it's the first time."

Quincy sighed, then adjusted his lapel. "Just be quiet. I've got a raging headache."

"Why? You haven't done anything today."

"Because you won't stop talking."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today."

His voice was just barely above a growl, and his face in a scowl to match. "Because YOU kept kicking me out of it."

But Harborne didn't hear him. He was far too interested in the crowd gathered in the lobby. Scanning it with his eyes in an attempt to find the Captain and his escort for the evening. He spotted them easily, and waited for them to break company before approaching his supreme leader.

"You look stunning for a woman of your advanced years."

"Backhanded. That's new."

"Not really," he replied, scratching the back of his neck in irritation. "I'm in a tux, and Quincy's complaining. Couldn't be happier."

"Sarcasm doesn't look good on you."

"Neither does this outfit. Nothing good ever comes from wearing these things you know."

She rolled her eyes. "Why does every man in my life complain about looking sharp?"

"Because none of the men in your life are normal, save your husband."

"Quite right... Where's Jessica?"

"Getting ready in back."

"And you're here because?..."

"She sort of kicked us out when I tried to help her put on her skin."

"No big surprise there. Different name, same problem. You Jacks can't keep your hands to yourselves."

"Hey!" Harborne shouted defensively.

"Get back to your post and keep a sharp eye out. I've got a bad feeling about tonight. I haven't seen my snitch yet. Has me worried."

"What's he look like, and I'll ring you if I see him."

"Sardosi. From the J'Faal tribe."

"Those are them orange spotted ones, right?"

She nodded. "He'll be in a skin, but he's going to be wearing a leopard print vest. Orange and navy. Goes by the name Vinnie."

He gave her a nod in reply, tipping an imaginary hat before parting from her company to return to that of Quincy. They kept an eye out, but never spotted the spotted vest before having to slip backstage and take their positions.

From behind the curtains, they could watch the show, and keep an eye on the box booked for Martha and her Captain. But with the heavy curtains, both men were relieved they couldn't be seen.

The intermission went by without incident. Quincy made himself scarce in the crowd, making sure to steer clear of Jack Harkness as he was ordered. But in the second half, things got hairy.

It was a flurry of confused Opera goers, Sardosi assassins, and laser fire. Harborne provided cover for Quin and Jessica as they ran to escape. Finding the way blocked off, and with Captain Jack coming up behind, they hunkered down in the dressing room.

"Stay put. Don't let anything or anyone through this door unless it's me."

"Got it," Quin replied, putting himself between Jessica and the door. He took a defensive stance, his gun at the ready as Harborne locked then shut the door behind him.

There was no silence. Only their labored breathing and the sound of gunfire outside the door. "Why now?" Jesse breathed, her skin torn, exposing a patch of black stripes on purple flesh beneath. "I knew it was risky coming back, but-"

"We don't know," Quincy replied in as comforting a tone as he could manage. But his attention remained on that door. "But we'll figure it out."

"I thought Cardiff was a safe zone."

"Apparently not. Someone wants you dead."

"Those were Sardosi out there."

"Yep."

"Sardosi hunters," she said, her voice shaking. "Do you think-"

"Please, Jessica, shut up and be quiet. Unless you've got a miniaturized Drakian staser pistol tucked in that bodice of yours, for the love of Darwin keep quiet."

She made an almost musical groan at him, looking about for something she could use as a weapon. A lamp, a belt, even a chair. Just anything to defend herself with.

In their silence, Quincy heard voices outside. One was picked out easily as his Commander. The other...

"Is it over?"

His brows knit together in annoyance. "Shhh!" Quin hissed as he tried to listen closer. Tightening his grip on the gun, he edged closer to the door.

He stayed there, positioned such that if the door opened, he could slam himself against it to push back on any intruder. His ears pricked up to listen for any sign of an end to the madness outside.

The gunfire ended, and he put a finger to his lips as a signal to the singer to keep quiet. He heard the voices again. It was over. The commander was still standing. But he dared not to open the door...

His heart thumped harder in his chest. His mind raced.

For he heard Captain Jack Harkness just a few feet away from him...

And was dying to make himself known beyond just a brief shove of shoulders in the crowd.

**CHAPTER 20**

Harborne was the first to wake. It was strange, considering he'd had to have a human alarm clock for the last 10 years of his life. Well... 10 years if no one counted the occasional time traveling trip gone awry.

Blearily eyes looked across the living room to see the menu screen for Casino Royale. From the corner of his eye, he saw the mop of blonde hiding a purple and black face behind it.

Carefully, he disentangled himself from the blankets tossed over him. Quin must have tossed them across before going to bed himself. Harborne did his best to keep quiet as he searched for something to wear. The rumpled tuxedo was dropped on the laundry room floor and replaced by his t-shirt and jeans from the day before.

He was looking for something to eat in the kitchen when he felt a cold nose nudge his hand. Glancing down, he laughed softly. "Did I wake you up girl?" He scratched behind her ears before getting himself something to eat as quickly and as quietly as possible.

Jessica woke to the muffled sound of Harborne's voice as he talked to his dog on their way out the door.

He'd decided to hit the streets on foot. Despite having been ordered to take time off, he couldn't help but keep working. There were different assignments going on, true, but a single problem overshadowed them all.

Of all his gadgets and toys to use, he was armed only with a wrist strap that could do almost anything, a gun that looked more like a cheap plastic cap gun and a dog. Of all these assets, the best one at this moment was the dog.

Rose trotted ahead of him as if she owned the city. In fact, the canine's reputation in certain circles often preceded even her owner's. That was why she'd been brought on this occasion. To help him root out certain undesirables in his travels. To help him gain information.

Rose led the way, on her leash, into what was called by the locals Vargas Point. A settlement near the bay of wartime refugees. They hailed from, as far as Torchwood could figure, the Eliphalet binary systems. These people had segregated themselves, and during UNIT's control of Cardiff had been under their protection from the locals. Now the shanty town was little more than a cesspool of black market sin.

The residents of Vargas Point specialized in species trafficking, exotic drugs, and weaponry. Basically anything that could be bought and sold on a black market happened in Vargas Point.

Rose stopped at the edge of the settlement, turning to look at her master with a small growl. Harborne checked his wrist band before taking out an earpiece and sliding it on.

"Don't get that way. I know what we're gettin into, girl. There's a big juicy steak in it for you when we get back home."

He reached down to pet her in reassurance, but she nipped his hand instead with a growl. Satisfied by having shown her displeasure, she turned to lead him in. The dog stuck close to her master, never straying more than a foot or two away.

The further the pair went into Vargas, the more alien the patch of Earth became. But Harborne had come here for a purpose. There was a woman here who had her finger on the pulse of the city. When normal sources failed you... Sapas of the Eliphalet never would.

She could help him make sense of the data he'd gathered. And perhaps had insight into how, and why his unwanted guest had come to plague him in Cardiff.

Wandering down the twisting passages between stalls and hovels, Harborne came to a bright green painted door. The only distinguishing marks on it that let it stand out from the rest were a series of circular symbols burned into the wood, creating amongst themselves a sort of spiral pattern.

What these markings meant, nor the significance of them, he knew not. Only that they signaled the place where Sapas resided. Rose stood guard as he tried the door, finding it unlocked.

A thin, green woman spoke. The words were gibberish until the earpiece translated them for him, explaining that he had been expected.

The earpiece relayed the appropriate response for him to repeat, but he didn't get the chance to speak before he heard Rose bark into the darkness of the hovel.

Sapas emerged from the shadows, clad in little more than a light slip.

"Halfbreed," she said with a gap toothed brown smile. She turned to the other woman, spoke something that the translator could not decipher. She bowed her head and brought out an oil lamp before leaving them.

"I apologize. She is... new."

"Keeping slaves now, are you?"

She shrugged, burgundy hair falling into her face. "Please, have a seat."

He did so, but his companion stood stock still beside him. Unmoving save for the gentle pumping of her body as she breathed in and out. "How did you know?"

"I have eyes, and I have ears. And I have heard strange tales of a man running around this city in your coat." She sat down, the feeble light of the lamp flickering as it cast strange shadows across her blue skin. "But that is not all I have seen in these later days. The dead are walking, Halfbreed."

"What do you mean? We haven't had any reports-"

"Then what do you need me for?" Sapas said with a sickening brown smile. "If you know so much, why come to me and waste my time?"

He drew in a deep breath, trying to get his thoughts in order. "The dead don't walk."

"But they do. Not the dead you know. Not like you... or the Captain. These dead do not feel. They do not speak or hear or see. And they feed on flesh. Spreading the sickness everywhere they go."

Harborne frowned, thinking about her words as they were translated and poured into his brain. He knew the woman could speak his language, and understood it easily enough. But to him she always spoke her mother tongue as if a badge of pride.

"They hide in the dark; fearful of the light as it burns the last shreds of their souls. In the dark they come. Sometimes they take one. Sometimes two. But they never leave alone."

"Do you think this has anything to do with the Great Sky Bridge?" Harborne asked, using the term for the Rift that most of the immigrants did. "Recently it has been acting strange, bringing strange things."

"Perhaps," Sapas replied. "I... will look into it for you if you wish."

"I do."

She smiled again and gave a nod. "I will need something in return. Always a price, Halfbreed. This one steeper than most."

He swallowed hard, trying to divine what it could be she had in mind. Rose growled beside him, ready to spring. Gently, he put his hand out to stroke her pelt, trying to calm her back down.

Red, bloodshot eyes glistened in the lamp light as she leaned forward. Her nostrils were flared as she sniffed the air. Sniffing him for what she most desired. "Do not worry... For you these things grow back, do they not?"

"You know, this place could use a woman's touch," Jesse said when Quincy emerged from the back bedroom.

He found her sitting snuggled up under the blankets he had thrown over Harborne the night before. Her synthetic skin was gone, and the black patterns across her purple skin broken up only by ill fitting clothes belonging to one of the men that she'd pilfered from the laundry. A large bowl with an entire box of cereal and an entire gallon of milk sat in her lap.

Cartoons played on the television.

"Don't you have a hotel room somewhere?" he asked, rubbing his eye with a groan.

She took a big spoonful of cereal and grinned at him. "Yes, but I'm supposed to stay somewhere safe. What if they went to wait at my hotel to kill me?" she said in mock innocence.

"...James said you could stay, didn't he?"

"No. Then again, he left a while ago."

"Where to?"

She shrugged and focused her attention back on the cartoons. "Can't say. Took the mutt with him though. Good riddance. Never could stand the damn thing."

Quincy groaned as he passed her by, wanting to get his day started. It had been ages since he'd been able to do anything on his own time. Such as proper laundry, or grocery shop. He didn't think his stomach could handle another take-away.

"If you're going to be under foot all day," he called from the kitchen as he started looking around to make a list. "You can at least make yourself useful!"

It was Jesse's turn to groan as she finished eating her breakfast.

Harborne woke to find himself blind. Well, not necessarily entirely blind. One eye was missing from his cranium. Only to look down at him from above as he regained consciousness.

"The eye of a Time Lord is... a precious thing." Sapas smiled, one bloodshot eye replaced with a soft brown one. She stroked his cheek gently below the eye patch she had placed on him. "Rest now. Drink and regain your strength. Then go and wait." She rose to her feet, snapping in that speak his translator would not convert.

The green skinned girl knelt beside him with a glass of clean, fresh water. Such a precious commodity in the slums; given to a stranger of no special meaning.

He lay still, his trusty companion keeping watch over him as he slept off the effects of Sapas' procedure.

She'd patched up her skin with clear tape from the inside. Other places she applied bandages and makeup. All to look presentable in public. Jesse had managed, with the help of a pair of scissors, to find something to wear other than her gown from the night before.

A pair of Quincy's jeans became a pair of short shorts. One of Harborne's t-shirts became a cute tank-top. Her look was completed with a headband made of clothing scraps, a belt of the same, and her fancy heels from last night.

Despite the fact she called it "Trailer Trash Chic" it was actually quite tasteful and decent. Jesse had this way of meticulously adjusting fabric to make it look like it was made the way it looked rather than like rubbish.

Though Quincy wasn't happy to be seen in the local shops with her, he wasn't entirely embarrassed.

They managed to spend the day together without wanting to rip one another's head off. Surprisingly to both, they quite enjoyed their time out shopping. Their last stop was a small coffee shop catering to the more exotic clientele the fine city had to offer.

The owners had been busted once before, having sold off coffee beans that were really a high end, illegal form of caviar from a species of fish not native in this sector of the universe. But now, since Quincy was a regular customer, they'd cleaned up their act and now were on the straight and narrow.

"Get a drink and wait. I've got business to take care of."

"I'm not a child."

"You're pushing thirty and dressed like a teenage whore. Get a drink, sit down, and don't do anything stupid."

She stuck out her tongue angrily. But Quincy ignored her as he rounded the counter and passed into the back room of the little cafe. Jesse grumbled under her breath and ordered a drink. She wasn't happy about it, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to get off her feet for a while.

Pulling out her phone as she sat down at the counter, she figured it would be a good time to let her manager know she didn't die during the attack on the Opera house.

They returned home to find Rose barking at the bathroom door, scratching at it with her paws almost viciously. She was bound and determined to get in there to her master.

"You bring in the rest," Quincy said to Jesse, not waiting for her to argue as he dashed down the hallway leading back to the bedroom.

When he reached the bathroom door, he grabbed Rose by the collar and dragged her away. She didn't take too kindly to his attempt, and dug her teeth into his arm. Giving a shout, Quin shoved the canine away before beating with his good arm against the door.

"Jack! JACK! Open the door!"

Rose snarled.

"I'm kickin it in!" Quincy shouted. Taking a step back to make room, he lifted his leg to do as he said he was going to. But the door opened. There wasn't time to stop. His foot was launched, Rose darted in, and Jack Harborne got a chest full of shoe.

Jesse dropped the armload of groceries she'd brought in and watched the almost slapstick unfold down the hallway. Apples rolled across the carpet as she held her sides in laughter.

Harborne was sprawled across the bathroom floor, barely covered by a towel. Quincy's foot planted in his chest while Rose, the cause of all the panic merrily stuck her head in the toilet.

One eye looking out, the other covered with an eye patch, Harborne just blinked, speechless and still damp from the shower he'd been taking before having been rudely interrupted, having thought that the panic stricken voice on the other side was calling him because of some world shaking devastation that desperately needed his attention.

As the two men stared at one another, trying to figure out who should say what next, Jesse's human looking face popped into the door with the brightest smile spreading from ear to ear. "Do you boys need a little alone time, or can I use the loo now?

**CHAPTER 21**

"I don't see what all the fuss was about," Harborne said as he pulled his shirt on over his head. "I was only taking a shower. You know the stink of the slums sort of clings after you leave 'em."

"Your dog was going nuts at the door. What was I supposed to think? Every time she gets like that, something bad happens."

Quin continued to scowl as he finished wrapping the gauze around his hand where said dog had bitten him. "I just don't know what got into her."

Harborne stepped to the dresser, looking himself over in the mirror a moment as if trying to decide what to do with his damp, unruly hair. "She was probably still wired up from earlier. You know how protective she is of me."

"Intimately," Quin grumbled as he repacked the first aid kit. He sighed, snapping the latch closed and shook his head. "You know better than to go to the slums."

Harborne was running his fingers through his hair, trying to do something with it. "I needed information. More than I can glean from the computers. More than stats and decimals."

"Still. The slums, James? Really? It's like you're trying to get yourself killed."

He smiled. Quin saw his face in the mirror. It was a wicked, mischievous little thing. "So? It'll take a lot to kill me." His smile faded when he saw Quincy's reflected expression.

"We don't want anyone to start trying." He continued to stare a moment longer before breaking his gaze away. "I did some shopping. I couldn't stand the thought of another take-away."

Harborne nodded. "Good deal. At least if she's eating, Jesse won't cause much trouble."

The last of daylight was spent on Skypoint's park level. Jesse was stuffing her mouth with Quin's rather eclectic selection of food and drink. Quin had a bag of dry cat food beside him on a bench as he tossed small handfuls of the stuff into the small pond. The fish went wild. When they settled, he'd toss another.

Harborne himself was running laps with Rose around the park's walking path.

"This is delicious. I haven't had fried chicken like this since I was a kid," Jesse said, licking her fingers clean of the grease. "I remember back in Dixie, there used to be a chicken festival every year. I can't remember what town, exactly, but Jack's dad... oh, he'd always take us."

She leaned back and stretched out her legs, basking in the false sunlight from above. "We used to go from stall to stall with our tickets, getting a taste of everything."

"Sounds..." Quin said with forced interest, "fun."

"It was. Especially when we got to that last stall. We always saved this one for last. Granny Hannah's Tallapalloosa Chicken. The best I've ever had."

"So this is just as good?"

"Just as good," she confirmed.

There was a laugh from behind her. Harborne's face was suddenly just a few inches away from her own, and upside down. "It had better be. I stole old Hannah's secret recipe."

He moved out of the way before she could reach up and slap him. Plopping down next to Quin, he snatched up one of the few pieces of chicken she'd left him. "Do you remember the trip we took north to that auction in Maine? And you were stuck in the hotel the entire time?"

"And when I finally did go out, we had to tell people I was a tattooed circus freak because the rain kept washing my makeup off!"

Quin leaned back on the bench, playing with Rose for a bit as he listened to the conversation of the old friends. He sat, half listening, half thinking of the predicament they had left behind at work. While he did enjoy his down time, and was grateful for the rest he didn't like leaving things unfinished.

There was still work do be done, but at the order of their high commander, Admiral Milligan, he had been forced to set it aside. The data Mattie and Eddie had collected at the mall that night nagged at him. The crash site he had helped drag the hostile from still commanded his attention. And he was sure the computers were being sifted through even as he enjoyed a picnic with his...

Friends? Colleagues? He didn't like to waste time trying to label the odd connections in his life. If he did that, he'd be spending all his time making charts and lists on walls trying to sort it all out.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Quin looked down at Jesse as she sank her teeth into a custard tart. She ate it greedily, licking her fingers once more to get every smidge of flavor. She said something off color. Harborne guffawed in laughter.

Quin looked at him now. Though scarred, if only temporarily, by the needs of his office Harborne seemed still the innocent backwoods young man he met in Stoneybrooke those years ago. His brown hair disheveled and damp with sweat from his evening jog. A smile on his face that Quin hadn't seen for quite some time.

He rose, brushing himself off and grabbing the nearly empty bag of cat food. "I think I'll head back."

"What?" Jesse asked, then with a whine added, "Why? We're having fun, aren't we?"

"Well yes but-"

"Come on Quin! Stay with us a while longer."

He shook his head. "You may enjoy the mewling of a cat, but I find the sound utterly obnoxious and grating on the ears. Besides, that dish washer isn't going to load itself up no matter how hard I try to will it so."

Quin folded the top of the bag over a few times before tucking it under his arm. Harborne watched him like a hawk as Jesse went back to eating. He gave a small nod. Quin gave one back before clucking his tongue.

"Come along Rose. You stink like the backside of a barn."

Rose barked at him but after a quick, sharp whistle from her master, she followed the office manager to the elevator.

Harborne watched from the corner of his eye until the doors slid closed. He could hear Jesse speaking. A mile a minute between bites of food. Quin had been right to anticipate the typical size of her appetite, and had made sure to take enough to satisfy her.

The evening had wound down. Jesse and his commander were still absent. It was all the same for Quincy. He quite preferred the time spent alone. He'd been quick to give Rose a bath. She'd acted apologetic towards him during it. Even tried to lick his arm where he'd bandaged it. Poor old girl, she knew she'd done him wrong.

He'd soon after dealt with the dishes in the sink, and had settled at his computer to do a little work. Unknown to Eddie, he'd smuggled one of the servers out of the Hub. It was hard to do, considering the size of it. But he'd managed to get him distracted long enough to lug it out of the basements.

It was an old machine. At his best guess it dated back to the first Torchwood. Salvaged from the crater and put into storage for safe keeping. Now it sat in his home office for safe keeping.

It had taken a bit of time to connect it to the main office in Glasgow, and through there to all other Torchwood linked computers worldwide. It was from here he could at least check up on everything he had left undone at work.

He spent the better part of the hour cleaning up the database he had been working on. Deleting double entries. Adding information onto others. Eddie would give him hell if he knew the extent of the fiddling about he did in the computers. But compared to what they had at the office, Quin's home project was obsolete. When something was obsolete it was rarely considered an effective tool or weapon. Which made it the perfect system to infiltrate Torchwood with.

It also helped that the computer was part of the original system, and contained part of the AI that controlled the computers his predecessors had used 25 years ago.

None of that mattered now as he stumbled across a reading he recognized. A shiver went down his spine as he remembered the last time he had seen an energy signature like that. They'd had a hell of a time cleaning up the mess parallel versions of himself and the commander had left behind.

Then, the sirens went off. First one in his computer he didn't even know about. Then a piece of kit in the china cabinet in the dining room.

He had his coat on in moments, and grabbed another off the rack. Brown. Two weapons pulled from the secret stash in the office wall. Quin was just leaving with Rose on his heels when he heard Harborne calling to him from down the hall. Quin noticed he was alone.

"Got the coat?"

"Where's the brat?"

"Packing up. Gave her my key. Come on. There isn't time." He held out his hand as Quin tossed one of the weapons to him. A quick glance at it caused the young commander to smile. "I like the way you think."

Quin chuckled. But it was a grim sound as they entered the elevator. "Now's not the time for flattery, sir. The world might be about to end."

"All the more reason to try," Harborne said as he pushed back his sleeve to reveal his ancient wristband. "You won't believe where the signal is coming from."


	9. CH22 thru CH24

**_Written by twtl and Z. _**

**_DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC._**

**_TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
CHAPTERS 22-24_**

* * *

**CHAPTER 22**

They rode in silence, having argued over who was going to drive on their way to Mattie's jag. There was barely room for the dog, but Harborne had insisted.

"Getting a call from Murdoch," Harborne said, activating the comlink on his wristband. "Howdy partner!"

_"You are to drop your activities and go to the Millennium Centre immediately."_

"We're one step ahead, sugar," he replied with a hint of amusement.

_"Admiral Milligan and Jack Harkness are en route. You will rendezvous."_

"Sure, sure," Harborne replied with less interest. "What are we dealing with?"

_"It appears to be a high concentration of rift energy. Creatures have come through the barrier that cannot be read by traditional scanners."_

"Got it." Murdoch was about to say more, but Harborne cut the link. "Punch it Quin. We don' wan the old timers getting all the action!"

* * *

They were second to arrive on the scene. Quin could see where the police line around the area had been pushed back. Beyond, in the Crater, they could see a strange blue light.

They ran, pushing their way through with Rose on their heels. Gunshots rang through the air. A cop tried to stop them. Harborne flashed a badge, confusing her long enough to get by.

"Weapons at the ready," Quin said as he pulled his from a pocket. Harborne was behind him. He gave a sharp whistle, holding his own out like a samurai.

Running past he gave a shout, launching himself into the air at the edge of the crater. His finger hit the switch. From the small, slender handle a beam of light the color of human blood shot out. As he came down to Earth again he swung it, slicing with ease through the shadowy figure nearest him.

He was aware of the others in his peripheral, but they were at this moment of little importance as he swung again. A bullet ripped through one of his shoulders, but the adrenaline rush was far too fierce to let him slack now. He switched to his other arm, using the weakened one to shield himself.

Quin's voice was in his ear. A shout of pain. "Rose!" Harborne cried. "Protect Quin! Priority One!"

The dog yelped as she sprang, darting through the carnage to obey her master's command.

He felt a pressure against his back. Shoulders mirrored his own as he heard the click of a magazine fall from a pistol. Seconds later another click signaled a reload. "They just keep coming."

"You've been hit," Jack said, firing into the creature nearest him.

"Just a flesh wound," Harborne replied. "Any sign of he robo feller?"

"Yeah. Opposite side," said Jack. He'd wanted to add something more but Harborne was gone. Only a red stain on the back of the blue greatcoat remained.

"Find something to hold onto!" Martha shouted as best she could above the din.

He didn't understand what she meant until he saw it. A gaping hole in the sky above their heads. I began as a blue light, but that was brief. The red came like an explosion within the hole. Jack looked around frantically, firing into each of the creatures that came near him. The power of the rift was full force above him. He found a jagged steel bearing sticking out from a pile nearby. He hoped it was well buried at the other end as he dove for it. His arm wrapped tightly around it, the edge cutting through the fabric of his coat and shirt easily before digging into his flesh. Jack could feel the pull of the hole in space and time trying to suck him in as it hoovered the deadly aliens up into it.

The last thing Jack saw pulled up into the chaos was the mechanized body of Owen Harper before the hole collapsed in on itself.

What didn't get pulled in slammed into the crater around him before the rain began to drizzle down.

After a long moment, he heard a voice.

"Is everyone alright?"

Jack turned his head in the direction of it. His heart felt as if fit were caught in his throat. Bruised and bloodied in the middle of the battlefield stood a man who had been lost to him five years ago. A man who shouldn't be there.

"Two arms and two legs!" called Harborne in reply. "Martha? Jack?"

"Survived to fight another day!" called out Martha as she untangled herself from the wreckage Jack had once known to be the water tower.

Somehow Jack found his voice, wincing as he pried his arm off the beam. Already he could feel the wounded flesh knitting itself back together. "Still here."

Harborne looked around in a sudden panic. "Where's Rose?"

"She's here," Quin said, causing Jack to look at him again. "I'll give her a once over at the hub, just to be sure."

Harborne had made his way over, his right arm dangling uselessly at his side. His light sword had diminished, and stuck out of his front pants pocket some. Jack noticed the eye patch caked with sweat and grime like his hair. He watched the young leader closely as he slipped the brown coat off his shoulders, showing it to his comrade.

The body language the pair gave off was that of concern, mixed with relief. Martha stole his attention before he could delve further into their interactions. Her blouse was little more than ribbons and her trousers were stained with dirt and blood.

"None of it's mine," she assured him. "But I'll have to leave them to be analyzed."

"Did all of them get sucked in?"

"There are a few bodies. Pinned near the tower rubble. I'll have a crew come out to clear this up. We'll take two back with us."

He nodded. Martha looked past him then laid a hand gently on his shoulder. "If you want to go home..."

"No. I'll help. I know more alien anatomy than the rest of you. I'm more help in the autopsy."

"Take your time," she said. "I'll check on my boys."

* * *

The drive back to the hub was silent as the grave. Harborne had tagged along and sat in the back of the van with the dog and the bodies. When they were back at base they'd found Murdoch had a work with the computers, compiling data and organizing a clean up team from the desk.

Martha and Jack had gone to the morgue to begin work on the bodies, but found the corpses gave off too much radiation to safely perform a proper autopsy.

Quin had taken Rose to Medical to tend to her wounds.

Harborne was alone with his thoughts. He sat in the boardroom trying to busy himself with the data Murdoch streamed to him.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

He looked up as a steaming mug was set beside his PRM. Quin stood there looking down at him with a few bandages across his cheek.

"Just trying to make sense of this," he said. "These signatures are different from the last time... But according to Murdoch they're similar to the Dalek invasion of 2008. But-"

"You're working yourself into a tizzy. Step back from the data and look at the facts. Start from your own experience tonight, and piece in the logic from there."

Harborne nodded as he sat back in his chair. He chewed his lower lip in thought.

"There's tea when you're ready." Quin made to leave but Harborne grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Yes?"

"The cyborg."

"I saw him," he said, gently easing out of the grip. "We'll talk about it later. Don't work too late otherwise I may just kill the houseguest."

When Quincy had gone Harborne stared at his mug a long moment before taking a sip. As the hot elixir of life flowed down his throat the thought of what to tell the captain about the office manager was, momentarily, the furthest thing from his mind.

Quin had intended to leave for home after giving his flatmate his tea, but he'd decided to set a few things for the morning. The last two of the team would be arriving near dawn as usual. If hey didn't have their coffee he knew they would give the boss a hard time about it. Then they would destroy the planet. They're nearly done it the last time they didn't have their morning coffee.

When he heard footsteps behind him he didn't need to turn around to know who stood in the doorway. "I'll be right with you. The dispenser's jammed. Looks like the commander's handiwork."

"Leave it for Murdoch," Martha said.

"Let that oil swilling automaton near my baby? I think not," he replied harshly. "Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be right out."

"What I have to say can't wait. You're out for the week, barring armageddon."

"What?" It was deadpan as hands stopped their delicate work, freezing in place like a living statue. "Why?" he asked despite knowing the answer. The last time he had seen Jack Harkness, though a much older version, he had been witness to a father-son slugfest at the Stoneybrooke Police Academy graduation ceremony. But THAT Jack had been a much different man.

He just wanted to hear someone else say it.

"James needs time to figure out how o handle all this with the Captain. It's not easy for anyone... You looking identical..."

With a sigh, he nodded his agreement. His hands resumed their work. "What's the story then?"

"Same as usual. A few gaps filled in for insurance."

"Understood," he replied. "What about the Sardosi princess eating me out of house and home?"

Martha smiled. "She'll be filling in. The rest of her shows in the UK have been cancelled. She'll return to Moscow when the case concerning her is finished."

**CHAPTER 23**

She arrived at the hub early as she always did. To both her and Eddie's surprise hey had beat Quin and their leader. After a quick check of the computers she learned more had gone on than Eddie had been able to tell her. "I'm in London two days and the whole city goes to pot!"

That got a laugh out of the plaster cased man. She smiled to herself as she got caught up. Just the basics. No need to spoil the briefing she was sure to get soon enough. Swiveling in her chair, she looked to her brother and was glad they were alone. He'd been asleep when she got in, and hadn't been able to tell her anything of the side project she had him working on. Now seemed he opportune time to discuss it.

"So dad knows."

Eddie glanced at her. "Yeah? Knows what?"

"That I fight aliens for a living. After mum went to bed, he gave me a stern talking to."

"You bleach him?"

"Nah. He's not happy about it, but he'll hold his tongue. For now."

He smirked as he typed. "That's reassuring," he said sarcastically. "Find out anything useful?"

"No much. Just that this Jack fellow was mum's boss. And an alien. And blew up the Millennium Centre."

That got his full attention. "He did WHAT?"

She tried to mimic an explosion with her hands, making a lame sound effect to match. "No his fault though. Someone put a bomb in his gut while he wasn't looking."

"Way more interesting than what I found out. But I think I've got something to top it."

"Yeah?" she asked, her competitive nature peeking out.

He nodded. "Ianto Jones. Mr. Blurr Burn Face in the wedding photos. But it's weird though. The man looks like Quin."

"The boss IS a time traveler. He's never said, but all signs point to yes. Maybe Quin-"

"Quin's got a paper trail miles long. I've checked and double checked and checked again. It's completely legit. Did you know he wears contacts? Prescription apparently. Has astigmatism in his left eye. And had a root canal at age 14."

"Did not know that."

"The best part though... He's married. Couldn't come up with information on the spouse though. Not even a name."

She laughed. "What does all this have to do with Jack Harkness?"

He shrugged as best he could. "I don't really know. Proof that Mr. Jones and our Quin aren't the same person I suppose. But there's one strange thing in all of this. You've seen Mr. Jones' official death certificate, yes?"

"Of course. When I worked cold cases his name came up a lot. Naturally I looked him up."

"Then come take a look at this," Eddie said as he called up the files on the tablet he was translating. She came over to peer over his shoulder. "This isn't a recipe like I was hoping. It's a written record of a people evacuated from their home world by Jack and some other aliens."

He scrolled through a few pages of the translation until he found the part he wanted. Pointing at the screen he drew her attention to it. "Here. According to this, Ianto Jones of Earth was with the Guardians of he Great Box. He was counted among the lost when the planet exploded, attempting to get the last of the people off world. His ship was sucked into some sort of worm hole. They called it the Great Wyrm or something close to that. It's the closest approximation I could get."

"But this thing is ancient. At least as old as the pyramids. Maybe older."

"According to who? This was found in an alien crash site. They could have come from anywhere, anywhen. Besides, it doesn't matter much now. No one could survive the gees of a worm hole. It's like trying to piss into a black hole without falling in. Impossible."

"Have you told J... anyone about this?"

He shook his head and closed the windows. "I want to get more of it done, just in case. The language isn't native to Earth obviously, and I've only got a few similar languages to draw from. I want to make sure I'm not mistaken before showing my findings."

"Good call... Anything else on Harkness?"

"Not really. Paper trail stops cold in 2018. No photos, no records. Nothing, until now. As for his personal history... most of it was lost when the old Hub was destroyed. All I've found are bits and pieces in the old UNIT archives."

"Send them to my secure drive. I'll have a look over later." She gently touched his shoulder before letting her hand fall away. Returning to her station, Mattie began organizing her tasks for the day.

The two worked in silence until finally around noon came the first warm body to shuffle in. Peering over her monitor she saw it was a very tired Commander Harborne. With an eye patch. When he glanced her way, she raised a brow as if to say _"That's just plain odd." _ Not too long after came their newest additions. Jack Harkness and the Sardosi exile Jesse. They were arm in arm as Jack regaled her with stories of his younger days.

"As if we don't get enough strange around here already," Eddie mumbled.

His sister could only nod in agreement as she tried to swallow her laughter while scrolling through another page of RSS feeds.

The four of them were taking tea in the break room when Harborne's voice boomed over the PA system. "Boardroom. Fifteen minutes."

Mattie was heard remarking, "Finally the bloody wizard's going to speak."

Eddie lumbered awkwardly behind them as they made their way through the hub, fumbling with his handheld.

When they arrived in the boardroom, their leader was already there sitting at the head looking over something on a data pad. He didn't look pleased with whatever it was, and he didn't look up when they found their places.

Rather than sit alongside Jesse, across from Eddie, Jack chose the seat at the opposite end of the Director. Harborne noticed, as he was meant to, but made no indication of action.

"So..." said Mattie, breaking the silence."What's all this about last night then? Eds tells me there was a man with a machine gun from the rift."

"No no," said her brother. "He WAS the machine gun."

"Doesn't matter. I want to keep this as brief as possible. Everyone knows Jessica. Jessica knows everyone. She'll be filling in for Quincy this week."

"What? No! No no no! I NEED my coffee!"

Eddie laughed. "It's true. Without it she's worse than the bugblatter beast of Traal."

"Don't. We don't need a reminder of that incident. Montreal is STILL trying to rebuild," Harborne said flatly. "Milligan's orders. Quin out. Jesse in. Edward, you're on desk. Matilda, you're babysitting. While last night's incident is on the list of priorities, we still need to find out why and how Jack came through the rift. You two are heading out on a follow up at the mall. Mission specs will be sent o your PRM after the meeting."

"And you?" It was Jack who asked it.

He looked at his ex-wife and gave a small nod. "Jesse and I will be at the Crater. While tech is great, her sensitivity to rift energy is more reliable."

"Anything else mein capitaine?" Eddie asked.

"I've got something," Mattie said, turning to look at Captain Jack. She pointed an accusing finger. "Who the bloody hell is he?"

Harborne and Jack both smiled at the exact same moment. Jesse opened her mouth to speak but the Captain was the faster. "Captain Jack Harkness? And you?"

"Jack, stop it," Harborne snapped without a second thought.

The Captain stared at him a long moment in de-ja-vu. He frowned. the more he saw of the young commander, the more he reminded him of the Doctor... but not quite.

"There will be time for flirting later. Mr. Harkness-"

"Captain."

"Is our predecessor. He ran our outfit 25 years ago. And as you two no doubt have dug up, he's a time traveler. One that'll shag anything and snog anyone. Can I finish now or shall we go into excruciating detail of his many conquests in this galaxy?"

Jesse laughed, giving a snort as she did so. "Sorry," she breathed out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Sorry."

Jack absolutely beamed with pride. "That about sums me up," he said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. He gave a wink to Mattie, who only raised a brow in return.

"Good. Eddie, get the Captain kitted out. Make sure he gets a jumper and plenty of ammunition. Nobody wants to end up like you."

"I don't even want to end up like me," the tech boy said as he struggled to get up. His sister rose to help him. She looked up; wanting to talk to her boss a moment, but all she saw was Jesse's retreating back.

"Need a hand?"

Eddie grinned stupidly. "Don't touch my naughty bits and you got yourself a deal."

"Nor mine," Mattie added.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Jack replied ass he gave the pair a hand.

When he was on his feet, Eddie grunted. The siblings shared a look, and Mattie nodded. "You go on. We'll be up shortly."

Jack tried not to laugh as he watched Eddie waddle off out the door. He turned to Mattie when he felt her eyes on him. "Not convinced with the line your boss fed, eh?"

"Somewhat," she replied. "I know you knew my mother. And father. He told me a much."

"Really? Who-"

"Gwen Cooper."

He was silent. Staring, nay, examining her closely. That's right... Gwen had been pregnant when he last saw her. No wonder he couldn't find anything on her progeny. The kid worked for Torchwood. "Does mommy know you hunt aliens?"

"No. I'll put this to you straight, _Captain._ I don't like strangers. I do like to know who I'm trusting my life to. Now spill it."

"You first baby face."

"Would it stop you flirting if I tell you I don't date men over 200?"

"Not really."

She gave the subtlest of smirks. "We're at an impasse then. But just so you know... Get in my way and I'll throw you to the wolves. Come back from that and I'll do it again."

"You didn't get enough hugs as a child, did you?"

He saw in her big, beautiful brown eyes a sadistic, murderous shimmer. "I got far too many, Mr. Harkness."

* * *

She looked around at the rubble. It was just as Harborne had described to her. She nudged a small chunk of pavement with the toe of her borrowed boots. "So this is what you ran off last nigh? Looks... fun," she said sarcastically.

Harborne swept over the ground before him with an EMF detector. He'd modified it to specifically read rift energies and something the Doctor had once dubbed _void stuff_. "It was," he said, lacking enthusiasm. "Can you feel anything?"

She did. She felt many things here. Among the many talents of her people the most valuable and useful among them was the knack for physically feeling sound and energy vibrations. Her suit had been engineered to block out most of it, but over the years she had learned to use it as a tool. To focus her thoughts and tune it to specific frequencies and energy patterns. But this place bombarded her with vibrations. Echoes of the past mingled with patterns of the present. At last, she answered him.

"I'm feeling... There's something here. Something more than last night."

"Explains the high readings."

With a nod she stepped forward. He watched her as she slowly weaved her way through the crater with her eyes closed, sensing the energies as she did so.

"This was the old Torchwood base right?"

"Yeah. UNIT cordoned it off and rifled through the wreckage before anyone else could."

"They came here, looking for it."

"For what?"

"A machine... A living machine." Opening her eyes she turned her head to the right, then her body. Hands outstretched before her, she swept them over the immediate vicinity before crouching down. Removing one of here skin colored gloves, she touched her hand to the rocks. Gasping, she felt he rush, the raw power left behind by the machine of which she spoke. It was both fearful and wonderful. It filled her with dread, and pure Hope. "It was here... Very far below. Hidden from the entire world. But it's gone. Moved with great care and secrecy... but not stolen."

"Will they come back for it again?"

"Probably. But I can't be sure when. Or where. The rift covers the whole city. And the energies it gives off are fixed to this spot. I can't feel any trace of them surrounding the area. Not even a faint trail to indicate a direction. They could rip through at any point."

He looked around them, remembering the events of the night before with a shudder. He had seen many things in his short life. Many nasty, terrible things from the blackest parts of space. These... things were far worse than all of it combined.

"There was another," she said, snapping the commander from his thoughts. "A cold thing. A dead thing. The vibrations are very different from the rest of the hostiles."

He hadn't told her about the cyborg. About the thing that had come through with the creatures.

"Whatever it was," she said as she stood her full height. "Be glad it came. It was here to stop them."

"How did you-"

She slipped the false flesh back over here hand. "I've been practicing. The second vibration is easy to miss. I didn't catch it at first because of he machine's residuals. But like I said, the vibrations are VERY different. Distinct. Not a different species, or the mechanics. But the vibrations of an entirely different universe."

* * *

She was beautiful. She was armed. And she was absolutely scared to death. But Matilda Williams would never show her fear. She was the hero off the New British Empire. The best damn detective in the United Kingdom. And the only person she'd never want to meet in a dark alley on a pitch black night. Not that she ever had, but she knew the technology to make it happen existed.

And here she was packing enough for a small army, scared of what she now knew for certain was no mere weevil nest. She'd fought them off to save Jack Harkness's life. Yet it was the memory of being ripped to ribbons by weevils that haunted her as they stood outside the south entrance of the mall as the sun set in the west.

Swallowing hard, she checked her jumper. Fully charged, properly repaired. It reassured her that she could escape at any moment.

"Let's go," Jack said, his pistol out and ready.

"Remember. This is recon. Avoid contact whenever possible. You may be immortal, but I'm not."

"I like a woman who takes charge," Jack teased.

She rolled her eyes and pulled her trusty Beretta, kissing the side of it for luck as she clicked off the safety. Mattie carried her PRM in her other hand and followed Captain Jack into the darkness.

**CHAPTER 24**

Alone in the hub, Eddie felt at ease. Despite his current handicap, he found he was able to get his work done. Monitoring the rift and the city was a breeze. Keeping tabs on the news search filters was even easier. I was, quite frankly, a quiet day that moved right into a quiet night.

Nothing but coffee and classic rock to keep him company, he began he third of six daily checks of the hub's residents. One by one he called up the readings from every cell, including those that were unoccupied.

Whenever there was a change, two people would go down to the vaults and check it out. In his current state Eddie just logged it into the computer. Most were minor, such as a weevil defecating in a corner. But when Eddie came across the cell holding the gungan that Quincy and Harborne had brought in...

The sensors were showing an entirely different creature altogether.

"Visual readings for E block, cell 9-2-9," he said.

His screens lit up with CCTV footage of the gungan at different angles. At least... it should have been the gungan. What he saw was a pale creature, vaguely humanoid, and crouching over the remains of the cell's original occupant.

Quickly he opened comms to Harborne. "You need to get back. NOW. There's a problem in the vaults."

He heard his boss's voice reply, but he wasn't paying much attention. Instead he was watching the creature as it stood. It turned and looked directly at the nearest camera and roared. For the briefest of moments Eddie thought he saw a stone wall in front of him. He thought he felt the slick, orange gungan blood on his hands.

He thought he heard the siren's call... Even though he was fully awake...

* * *

"The blueprints say we should be nearing the food court. That's where we found you before."

"I remember coming here after it first opened," Jack said. "Was buying a wedding present for your mom."

"What'd you get her?"

"In the end I had Ianto pick up a new gown. She'd ballooned up over night with aliens in her stomach."

She clicked her tongue. "Sounds about right." Mattie swept her gun over a nearby doorway. So far not a single weevil in sight. Or anything else that went bump in the night.

Slowly she slipped a hand in her pocket, taking out her sunglasses. She slipped them on and gave a quick tap to the left arm of them to activate full night vision. The Captain ahead seemed to have no problem navigating in the dark.

"This place should be crawling," she said. "We got caught up in a territory fight."

"This is a trap," he said. "Someone knew we were coming."

"Let's just push past the food court. Get to an easy exit."

Jack nodded, moving ahead. Mattie kept a firm grip on her gun as she followed. Her eyes sharp on he lookout.

"What the hell is that and how did it get in my base?"

"The computers aren't registering anything. Absolutely nothing!"

"It's not in the database. Has nothing to compare it to."

Eddie shook his head and called up the readings from before, when he'd first found it. "The computers are fine. See. Bu now, it's like there's nothing there. No even picking up vitals."

"When did that start?"

"When the gungan stopped twitching."

Harborne scratched the back of his head as he tried to think through it logically. "No other systems were triggered?"

"No sir. And the door is double deadlocked. Nothing can get in or out."

"Obviously something did," he said. "Run a full diagnostic on the Vault's systems. Check for any spikes in rift energy inside this base. Report any that can't be explained."

Eddie nodded and set right to work. "What are you going to do?"

"We've got a Sardosi. I'm putting her to work. If the scans can't pick up anything maybe she can."

Twelve minutes later the former Mrs. Harborne was standing outside the door of cell 9-2-9 in the E block. Harborne was standing behind her as she removed her glove for the second time that day. Taking a moment to clear here mind and focus, she took a slow, deep breath. Harborne watched as she put her hand to the cold stone. Immediately she tensed up.

Her eyes were closed but her expression was one of pain as she forced herself to hang on. To push pas the rising, instinctive fear hat was attempting to consume her. It was over in a matter of seconds as Jesse staggered back, wide-eyed as she breathed raggedly. She could not find her voice a first... For a strangled scream had lodged itself in her throat.

The commander was at her side in an instant. "What happened?" he asked as he grabbed her, holding her close to keep her steady. "Are you alright?"

Slowly she regained her senses. She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Then she lay her head against him, listening to the double beats of his heart... the one true intimacy she missed from their years of marriage. He held her tight, as if a child. One word worked its way past the scream in her throat. One word escaped those lips.

He barely heard it as she sobbed.

That word was Morloki.

* * *

Jack stopped in his tracks, holding up a hand to signal the mortal behind him to do the same.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"We're being tracked," he said. "What's up ahead?"

"I'm not picking up any life signs but us." Mattie stood close, checking the blueprints. "A coin shop and a clock shop up on the right. Elevator, utility closet, and restrooms on the left."

"Escape routes?"

"Elevator shaft to the lower level. Unless there's a hole in the floor ahead, our best bet is forward. There should be an emergency exit ten metres out." She double checked the plans. Yep, ten metres. "I get the feeling we're not just being tracked. We're being herded."

"Like cattle moving straight to the slaughter."

"If we shimmy down the elevator shaft, there should be an entrance close to the Yarn Barn Outlet." She turned her back to him, scanning the path behind them with her gun and handheld. "Still no readings. Just typical signs of rift activity. No more than the normal range this far out from the Crater."

"Keep sharp," was all Jack said as he moved forward again, slower than his previous pace.

* * *

"Morloki? Like, **The Time Machine** morloki?" Eddie asked.

Harborne nodded. "Seems like. The data we have seems to fit. I'd always thought old H.G. just made them up."

Eddie turned his chair around. "But... how? There's no sign of forced entry. No entry at all. No surge in rift activity. It's just... There."

"And it's got Jess scared to death. That was before she saw the CCTV. And separated by stone and steel."

"So what do we do now boss?"

"Keep it under close observation. Keep the scans going till we get something new. I'll try to get Jesse to open up."

Eddie nodded. "Anything else?"

Harborne handed over his PRM and the EMF detector. "Make some sense of these. I'll brief the rest of you when your sister gets back."

Another nod and the nerd went right to work. Harborne, meanwhile, had gone down to the Crypt. He remembered Jesse's love of old things. It served to comfort her when nothing else could.

It was part of the reason they had become friends. His father had owned an antique restoration business, and he worked in it with him. When Jessica and her mother had moved to town they had sought out all the local antique dealers in the area in search of the oldest furniture they could find.

As he walked down the aisles, shining his torch down each one that intersected, he smiled so softly as he recalled he first time Jesse had attempted to run away from home. She'd snuck in the back door of the shop and hid in a Victorian wardrobe because she said it smelled like the forest after a fresh rain.

Harborne had thought it smelled like moldy sandwiches and dirty socks.

He found her sitting in the floor of the aisle marked Ta-Tn. Folders, books, and parchments were spread out around her. When he shined the light on her, Jesse took the torch from her mouth. "Those are classified," he said.

"I have the clearance. Moscow, remember." Bu she didn't look up. Instead with her free hand she kept thumbing through a book. "An explanation," she replied to the question he didn't ask.

Harborne went to her; crouching across the documents he shined the light on the one nearest to him. "An explanation to what?" He needed o know more about the morloki creature in the holding cell, but he also knew when not to force an issue with this woman.

"The machine. The living machine. I've felt that energy before. I thought I had forgotten. Buried in my memory with the rest of the Dark Times. It was so long ago..."

This had him concerned. No. More than concerned. It meant that both cases being worked may be connected. The only link between them sit in the floor here, desperately searching for proof. He was shaken to his core at the thought of it. "Jess, we need to go upstairs."

"No," she snapped. "I need to keep looking."

"And you will. I'll help you. You know that. But I need to know what you know. All of it."

She looked up into that single brown eye. For a moment she felt like a little girl again, hiding from her vile mother in a wardrobe in the back of Harborne Antiques. Slowly, she began to nod. He helped her to gather up the mess.

"Can you think of anything else you might need?"

"Full access to the Crypt and your computer archives. Everything needs to be available to me... Because I don't know exactly what I need or where the research will take me."

"Done. You'll get Quin's station and full use of my office whenever you need. Just say the word."

* * *

Mattie was uneasy. Her gut told her to turn back. Bu there was no turning back. Jack had led her to the lower level. The stench of death clung to the air. In her past encounters she knew the smells of a weevil den. They had a distinct flavor of raw sewage and feces that stung the nostrils and left a sort of taste stain in the mouth for days after.

But this was an entirely different sensation. This was not the disgusting scent of life in progress. This was the smell _of death_ itself. "I can't go on line this," she hissed.

"You can turn back if you like."

"And leave you to the wolves? No way. Not this place. My brother nearly go killed trying to pull you out of here."

"So he's your brother. Wouldn't have guessed."

"I got all the looks," she quipped. "There should be a clearing ahead. Looks like it was an atrium. The blueprints show the last exit right on the other side."

"We may not make it out."

"That's what the jumpers are for. I call base and let Eds in on the situation. He can pull us out if necessary."

"Short range teleports. Handy little things."

"Especially when we don't end up in Splott."

Jack chuckled softly to himself as he stopped behind an overturned kiosk. "Better phone a friend. We're about to crash the party."

Coming up alongside him she could see what he meant. Her night vision was picking up movement ahead. Lots of it. Tapping her earpiece she called into the hub. Seconds later she heard her brother's voice. A friendly line in the vast darkness. Checking the handheld she saw it didn't register any vitals but her and Jack. She slipped it in her pocket and reached for a flasher.

"Remember the sunglasses you were issued?"

"Yeah."

"Might want to put them on. It's about to be daylight."

Jack barely had time to slip them on before Mattie threw the first flash bomb. "Go! Go! Go!" she shouted over the massive roar that rose up when it detonated.

Mattie was out of hiding with guns blazing. Jack followed her as she emptied two clips at once, stopping only to reload and lob another flashing grenade into the nest.

In his opinion Jack thought she was insane, bloodthirsty, or both.

Lucky for him she didn't ask his opinion as she fired wave after wave from her semi automatics.


	10. CH25 thru CH28

_**Written by twtl and Z.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION**_  
_**CHAPTERS 25-28**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 25**

Jesse sat with a hot mug between her hands. Her hair was tied back, but a few strands refused to conform and hung to the side of here face. She had sat in silence sipping her tea as Harborne waited. A last she began to speak as she stared into her half-empty mug. "You know the story of my people. How we came here. You know when we came. Where we arrived. And how many we were. It's well known most of us were sent where no human could survive. The deserts, the highest peaks. Even the ice fields of Antarctica. Our world was one of extremes. We had adapted to live in worse conditions. These places to us are a paradise."

She paused, looking up at him. She saw only his patience, but she felt his expectance. "I tell you of the Morloki only because you are now part of Us, through me. Though I am exiled, I am still Sardosi. And you are my Champion. Our shared suffering became yours the day we..."

"I understand," he said. "I will only repeat what you want the others to know. But I will use my knowledge at my discretion."

Silence passed between them. She knew the man across from her better than she knew herself. And she knew his word was his bond. "Touching that... beast below awakened the memory of my youngling years. I was only what your people call three, but I remember it clearly. I was born of royal blood, but royal among slaves. My people once ran free across Ardos, but then the Old Ones came and built their tower. From it came only death and bondage. Many were taken inside and tortured in ways we could never imagine. When they came out again they were like crazed beasts. Until that day, there were no words in any of our tongues for Evil. After the first man returned to us that word in all tongues was Morloki.

"They devoured entire tribes, spreading the vile sickness across the world. For 800 of your Earth years we Sardosi lived in fear that we would become like them. One bite, one scratch was all it took. They got inside you and they grew. I watched my father change. It was slow a first. My mother was forced to kill him before he could kill me. Our fear was used to keep us enslaved. But when she killed him something changed. She was no longer afraid. She hunted them, knowing that they could die, and thus beaten."

Jesse clung to the mug, doing her best to keep it steady as she brought it to her lips.

"Your mother led a revolt." She nodded in confirmation. Harborne continued. "When he tried to kill you, her maternal instinct went into overdrive. By killing them, as many as she could, she was protecting you. Protecting the future of her bloodline."

"Yes. There were many battles. Those she freed from the camps took up shields and joined her crusade. It was during one such battle that he came."

"Who?"

"Magnus Lisistrato," she replied. "And his living machine. He tried to help us. He and my mother fought their way into the tower. His friends loaded as many as they could. They said we were going somewhere safe. Somewhere the Morloki didn't exist. We would be free."

"They lied," Harborne said flatly.

She shook her head. "I don't think they meant to. Magnus Lisistrato and my mother brought the tower crashing down... And all of Ardos with it. Now my people live free. But after 800 years of fear, the instinct cannot be bred out of us so easily. The Morloki will always stir a sense of fright and utter helplessness in us, and we are compelled to hide and obey."

* * *

Mattie's back was pressed tight against the wall of tables. She and Jack had been forced back into the bowels of the condemned mall. They were pinned down. The trap was sprung and together they had beaten a hasty retreat. "Now we know what happened to the weevils," she said. "Bet they tasted as foul as they smelled."

Jack had quickly caught on how the shades worked, and now had them on the infrared setting. While other sensors in Mattie's handheld were rendered useless, the creatures didn't' give off heat. They registered as cold as corpses. He was glad for it. It meant he could see them coming.

"Why aren't they attacking? They're bound to have our scent by now."

"Maybe they like to play with their food," Jack replied, keeping watch on the only way in, and out, of their hiding space. "We may need to us our life line after all."

"I'm afraid you're right." She checked the blueprints. "Nearest exist here is up through the food court window."

"Is that all?" Jack laughed. He couldn't see her face, but knew it contained a look of trademark Cooper disapproval. "It takes a minute to charge up. The rift energies here are sufficient." She tapped in to Eddie.

After a moment there was still no reply. She tried again... Still... Not a sound.

"Uh oh."

"I don't like uh oh."

She checked her clips. Then counted the flashers in her pocket. Two left. "We'll either have to fight our way out or risk an unprimed jump. We could end up anywhere in Cardiff."

"I knew I didn't like the sound of uh oh. There's no chance we'll make it out any other way."

Mattie drew a deep breath. "Alright. But if your torso ends up two feet to the left of the rest, don't say I didn't warn you."

"I've had worse."

"I know..." She pulled up her sleeves, revealing her rift jumper. It was similar to the one he'd been issued, but had a considerable amount of wear.

Jack rolled back his sleeve, exposing the one on his wrist.

"Input emergency code Z-5-99-Theta," she said. "There's a full 60 second delay. Right before we jump I'll detonate a flasher. Will buy us a little time."

"How much?"

"30 seconds," she replied. "Input now." As she spoke, Mattie punched in the code quickly. Then she produced one of her last to flash bombs. Moving to the opening, she was careful to keep herself concealed from the hungry monsters outside.

Jack switched to night vision just before he felt it. In the pit of his stomach the sudden onset of nausea. It felt like a snake was trying o slither up his esophagus. Looking at his hands he saw them begin to glow. Brighter and brighter before the tips disintegrated to expose the muscle, then the bone beneath. I traveled up his arms to his torso. He wanted to scream but found his throat paralyzed as even the bones turned to particles of light.

The last thing Jack Harkness heard before feeling an overwhelming sense of nothingness and peace was that of Matilda Williams cackling in triumph, heckling the demons that now scurried from the strobe light she had lobbed at them.

Jack could sense that he was alive. He could sense the city around him; the planet he was on. He could taste the ionization of the energies as he passed through the currents. Of all the times he had died over the centuries, even the two millennia beneath Cardiff, he had never felt this sense of perfection. Everyone who had died and come back with he resurrection gloves reported... Nothing. A vast darkness where nothing existed. Absolutely nothing. Even when he would gasp his first breath after returning to life, he remembered the same.

But THIS, Jack had decided, was far more precious. THIS is what should be waiting at the end of a life well lived.

Utter euphoria.

He was not prepared for the end of his jump. For the suddenness of sound and he physical world. For the physical side effects that resumed.

The Captain slammed onto the pavement, falling on his left arm. He heard the snap of bone as if it were a mere three centimeters from his ear.

Cars drove past him, honking their horns like blaring sirens. Jack scrambled out of the road to the sidewalk. Swallowing back the vomit that threatened to explode out of him, he tried to get his bearings.

He covered his ear facing the street, and then felt a hand on his broken arm. Turning his head, he saw him. That man he'd only seen at the Crater. Jack yelped as he pulled on the arm, even though it was already knitting back together. His senses were rattled, and he'd only half heard what was said to him.

What he did hear, though, gave the impression that this man was very surprised and very cross at the same time.

* * *

Matilda landed on a patch of petunias. Of all the open space around her, she just _had_ to land on the petunias. On her stomach.

"Great. Just bloody great."

She pushed herself up and was on her feet in moments. When the ringing in her ears settled she was grateful to land in the countryside. Nature provided a much better background noise than a busy city street. The only downside, she realized after checking he handheld, was she now stood somewhere around 350 miles north of London. As she tried to get more information, the handheld fizzled out and died.

Not quite what she had expected. "Bloody Scotland," she muttered as she checked the remainder of her armaments. Something odd had replaced her last flash bomb.

Pulling it out, she stared hard at it in disbelief. "What the hell?" she asked of no one.

What the hell indeed. The thing in her hand was certainly no high tech piece of alien fighting technology. I was, of all things, a satsuma.

"At least I won't starve," she mumbled as she placed it back in her pocket as she started in the direction of what she hoped was a nearby road.

* * *

Jesse screamed. Harborne ran out of his office, pistol drawn and ready for a fight.

"James! Over here!"

He was at her side in seconds, looking down at Eddie lay in the floor.

His brow was covered in sweat. His eyes stared up unblinking, unfocused.

Harborne pushed Jesse aside to kneel. Tapping his earpiece he tried to raise Mattie. He heard only static. He tried Jack next. The adrenaline was pumping so hard and fast he didn't even register surprise when Quin answered instead.

_"Sir, Jack-"_

"Don't care. Need you here. Now! Eddie's having some sort of... I don't even know!"

_"Be there in ten."_

"Make it five."

_"Yes sir."_

The line went dead as Harborne checked his tech boy's vitals. His pulse was racing, but his skin was cold as ice. "Help me get him to the infirmary," Harborne snapped. "Grab his legs!"

The singer jumped to action. Though the normal elevator was closer, they took him to the bigger freight elevator. Within minutes they were lugging him into the infirmary and up onto a table. "We've got to get this cast off," Harborne said. "Grab that bone saw."

"But-"

"Don't question me woman! Just get it!" He grabbed the surgical scanner and hitched it up. He flipped the switch and made quick work of both an X-ray and a deep tissue scan. Bruising. Stitches. A cracked rib and two more broken but on the men. Just as Quin had put in his report.

Jesse handed him the bone saw after he'd raised the scanner. "When I've got it cut, you pull it away."

"Got it," she replied, moving to stand on the opposite side of the table. The sound of the saw on the polymer casing was deafening to her sensitive ears, but even more so to her extra senses. Jesse watched as the commander slowly made his way down the center of Eddie's chest, careful not to let it go too deep and crack the sternum wide. Once he was down the front, he set the saw aside. She helped him roll Eddie onto his stomach and hen Harborne cut along his spine.

"The arm. Don't forget the arm."

Harborne nodded, giving he encased arm a hit with the saw. Satisfied he set it aside again. Jesse's side was the easier. Harborne had to work for his, carefully sliding the arm out of the hole. After the cast was removed they saw the full extent of the youngest operative's injuries.

Just as they rolled him onto his back again the door swung open. Quincy strode in, arms up and wearing scrubs.

"You're late."

"Had to park the car," he replied, looking at Jesse. "You. Out."

She had no problem with that order. Jack came in after her departure.

"What's he-"

"He knows more than you do. I need extra hands," Quin snapped behind his surgical mask. "Now tell me as quickly as possible what happened."

Harborne did just that before getting tossed out into the hall with Jesse.

The next thing he did was try again to get a hold of Mattie. If her brother died tonight she'd never forgive him... or herself.

* * *

Mattie trudged southward. Judging from her pace she decided she'd make it to the nearest village around dawn. Her phone was dead, the batteries zapped by the jump. Her earpiece fried, and her PRM was dead. Still, it could have been worse.

She could have ended up in the ocean.

Or France. She hated France more than Scotland. And France hated her right back.

Cut off from Glasgow and Cardiff, she felt herself more at ease than afraid. Angry, but only at her situation and how she got there.

Just when Mattie was getting comfortable with the idea of strangling her little brother when next she saw him, a minivan was just coming over the hill. And it was heading south. With nothing to lose, the detective inspector rolled up her pant leg to the knee and stuck it out to see. Then her thumb.

Sure enough it rolled to a stop. The side door opened and two men looked out at her.

"Where to?" one asked. He couldn't have been more than 18, maybe 20 at the oldest.

Smiling her sweetest smile, she stepped up to them. "Back to London. My car broke down a way back."

"We didn't see-" the other started. But he was stopped when he saw a semi automatic Beretta in front of his nose.

"I broke down, and you're taking me south. Nobody gets hurt so long as I get a ride."

**CHAPTER 26**

_"First time jumping. It's a doozy," Quin said as he set the glass of water in front of Jack. "Drink up. Sometimes if you're in the Non-State too long you get dehydrated. The first time James threw up things he hadn't even eaten yet. Was so dehydrated he was delirious for days."_

_Jack hadn't said a word. Not even a sound once he got his senses under control. He was, for one of the rare few times, at a loss for them. He was sitting across a man in a grungy late night diner. A dead man who looked strange in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Who sounded even stranger with a pronounced mid-western American accent._

_"You should have plotted in coordinates first."_

_At last, he broke his silence when Quin took a sip of his iced coffee._

_"You're dead."_

_"I assure you, Mr. Harkness, that I am very much alive."_

_"How-"_

_"This is why I have the week off," Quincy commented. "So the boss could have a chance to explain me to you before you started the whole you remind me of my dead boyfriend thing."_

_"It's NOT funny." Jack's expression became defensive as he clenched his fists on the table._

_Quin raised a brow. "Relax old timer. I've got a good explanation. But it's not for public ears. Top secret classified Black Archive sort of explanation you hear me." Quin quickly launched into something else entirely when he noticed Jack's earpiece. "Your ear. It's blinking. Looks like you've got a call coming in." He reached across the table and snatched it faster than Jack could move to tap it._

* * *

Quin stepped back, lowering the surgical mask. "We've done all we can. He's stable."

"I've never seen anything like this," Jack said, looking down at the now sleeping man. "He's ice cold but his inside temps are just past 100 on the F scale."

"You need to verse yourself in metric," Quin said.

"How old is he?"

"Just barely 21," Quin replied as he turned to fetch a gurney. "We'll take him to the observation vaults. High level isolation. Heavy sedation."

"You're just going to drug him up and lock him away? He's a human being. A kid."

"A kid harboring an unknown extraterrestrial contagion that if unleashed could destroy all of mankind. We will observe, medicate, and analyze changes in his condition."

"And if it advances? If he can't be saved?"

Quincy was silent as he made preparations to move his patient. Jack understood the silence. He reluctantly helped to ready Edward for transport.

When they went into the hall, Harborne and Jesse were waiting. Quin shook his head. "Jack, take her upstairs. Sir, walk with me."

* * *

"Come on lady! We've got to stop for petrol!"

"I'll say when we stop," Mattie snapped.

"Who the hell are you? Kidnapping and armed robbery!"

She sighed. Her inner copper was screaming at her. But her Torchwood training kept it suppressed. "Honestly, I'm one of the good guys. I tell you anything else and I'd have to kill you."

"But, but-"

"But I'd rather not. Too messy. Then there's the cover story I'd have to invent. Bodies would have to be disposed of, probably mutilated. It'd be a real hassle. Mainly because I don't have my handy dandy brain bleach and don't feel like doing the paperwork involved." She grinned. "First one to pick up a cell phone gets a bullet to the groin."

* * *

"Still no word from Mattie," Jesse said as Jack brought her a snack from her break room. It wasn't much; a cheesecake muffin. Or that's what the package with Eddie's name on it had said. It also said the product had expired a month ago. She scarffed it down after a quick sniff. "I hope she's alright," she said with her mouth full.

Jack gave an uneasy nod. "She's a tough girl. She'll be fine."

"She used to be a lot less commando," Jesse said, licking her fingers clean. "Back when she first joined she was still a super cop, but less..."

"Blood thirsty?" Jack offered, recalling the woman's cackle.

Jesse shrugged. "Close enough."

"What happened to her?"

"Don't you know? For an old man you sure do miss the news, don't you?"

"I've been off world a while."

"A few years ago, dingoes ate her baby." Jesse shrugged. "Well... it MIGHT have been a dingo. I wasn't here for that one. I was down at the Antarctic base. From what I heard, that's the main reason she's banned from France."

"That will be enough, Jessica."

She turned to see Harborne coming in from the hallway. "Uh..."

"Anything on Matilda yet?"

"Nope. Not a stitch."

"Jack, my office." His words were cold, emotionless, and snappy.

He rolled his eyes. "Be there in a few."

"It wasn't a request." And just like that he slipped back into the hallway.

Jack groaned. "Two thousand years old and taking orders from a 25 year old punk."

"I know what'll cheer you up."

"Yeah?"

"You can take me out to dinner. A proper dinner." She smiled, tilting her head slightly. "After work, of course."

Surprisingly Jack found the prospect of taking her out a little uplifting. Cheerful even. "Sure, I could go for a bite."

"JACK!"

He groaned again.

"You'd better go before he throws a tantrum."

Picturing the younger man on the floor flailing about angrily was easier than he'd thought, and it gave him a good laugh as he went to the back office.

When he stepped in he shut the door. Looking over at the desk he saw Harborne with a bottle in hand. Two tumblers sat on the desk, half full. He'd just finished pouring.

"Drink?"

"It's been a long night," Harborne replied. "Sit." One of the tumblers was set on Jack's side of the table.

"I'd rather stand."

"Suit yourself." The commander drained his glass quickly and refilled it. He made no move to sit. "Explain to me why you appeared in the middle of the street and why my best operative wasn't with you."

"Look kid. I get he whole power rip. I was like you once. But lighten up."

"Lighten up? My attitude is the least of your problems. Quin's running every test he can think of, and inventing more, to find out what's wrong with Edward. We've got a Morloki in the gungan cell with no idea how it got there. Two dead bodies from a rift barrier breach, a Sardosi who risks her life just being in this country, and a goddamn time traveler who abandoned his post when the entire fucking world needed him most. Oh yeah... It's a regular jungle love fest here lately."

Harborne slammed his drink down on the desk. Some off it sloshed out onto a folder. He made no move to wipe it away. "I've tried to be patient, Jack. But right now a man's life is in the balance. Possibly his sister's too. Now fucking cooperate with me!"

He didn't exactly know what to say to that. Jack wasn't used to being the one on the receiving end of a tirade like this. Part of him now, years after the fact, felt bad for Owen and Gwen. He'd flown off the handle at them like this when he was frustrated, upset, and stressed out. And he'd done it often. They had held their own up pretty well if he was anything like this.

At last, he relented. "We were pinned. No other option but to try a jump. She phoned in for assistance, but by then your tech boy stopped responding. Now I know why."

The younger man was silent, his single brown eye glaring at him. Penetrating. For a moment Jack felt like the other man was in his mind, aging like a fire. He shook his head, pushing the thought away. "As for your operative... I honestly don't know. From what she told me she could be anywhere. Possibly anywhen. Or worse."

"Without coordinates, you landed two blocks from Skypoint. And Mattie's God knows where. Phone's probably shot. The battery tapped for emergency power to keep the jumper from shorting out. Ear pod too. Unless she's out of range. Explains the static."

"She had one of those PDAs."

"PRM. Personal Rift Monitor," Harborne said, his tone changed slightly as he tried to think. "No guarantee it's charged, but worth a shot. We can at least try to locate her. Then we'd be able to send assistance." He looked away, down at his spilled drink. The folder had absorbed some of the liquid, but not all.

"Look," Jack said. "I know there's a lot going on. I can relate. But I'm little more than useless right now unless someone tells me what's going on. I've had the burden of command. Especially this one. I can help you."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. But most of what's going on I can't tell you. The information is too sensitive to your personal timeline. You forget, Jack. You're from our pasts. We exist in your future. But..." Harborne was stricken then with an idea. "I may not be able to tell you everything, but I can at least alleviate some of your suspicions." He opened the top right drawer of his desk. "Do you remember when you took over? What your boss told you before he shot himself?"

It was a night Jack could never forget. One he so desperately tried to bury. "You know about that."

Slowly the younger nodded. "Of course. I was fully briefed on all my predecessors when I took the job. He was a brave man, Jack." He took out a folder. It was black, marked with the red hexagonal T. Jack recognized it from his tenure. It was the sort of folder used for the most classified of secrets Torchwood kept locked away. Harborne reached over and set it on a dry spot for him to take.

"I've compiled this file personally. It will fill in some gaps between your departure and Torchwood's resurgence. It has to do with what Alex saw that night. What Torchwood wasn't ready for, because it no longer existed... And what we're preparing to fight. It's what drove him mad. Read it, but tell no one."

"How..."

Harborne looked him in the eye. It was cold, almost hateful. "You already suspect it. Since the Opera, you've had this itch to know. And I know you've been trying to find out about me. To confirm it for yourself. But you didn't count on how terribly clever I am. Read it, and you'll understand why I hate you so much."

"We've never met before I came here."

Harborne smirked knowingly, but said not a single word further.

* * *

Quin had left the hub, satisfied that Eddie was well taken care of to the best of his ability. He had made sure to leave discretely.

Jesse had given up waiting for Jack and had gone home with Quin.

The two immortals were left alone. Jack in Harborne's office debating whether or not to take the file. Harborne was at Eddie's station searching for his second in command while keeping tabs on the Morloki and his tech officer.

The night dragged on in silence. And then, near dawn two things happened. An ancient woman appeared in the warehouse above demanding to see Commander Jack Harborne. And the land line in Quincy's personal office rang.

One was extremely odd. The other extremely rare.

**CHAPTER 27**

Jack couldn't explain the hesitation he felt when deciding to read the file. He wanted to know what had driven his own predecessor mad. What that locket had shown him that filled him with so much dread and fear... And what his own successor had uncovered. But the Doctor's influence was strong with him. It was too dangerous to know your own future. Being on Earth, at this time, he was dancing on the head of a pin, trying not to fall and upset the careful balance.

At last, he pushed the chair closer to the desk and sat down. Carefully, he opened the folder. A cover page outlined the situation he had discovered on New Years Eve, 1999. It described the locket in great detail and listed both its original archive name and node along with its current ID tag in the archives several levels below him.

A handwritten note in the margin to the left was in similar hand to his own, but he noticed an immediate difference. The letters leaned in the opposite direction. It was a reminder to update the computer listing. The next page contained a list of scan results on the locket itself. One o them was circled in red with another note in the same hand. It mentioned another file in the computer and to ask Alita about it.

Page after page of data on the locket, and the team who had found it. His own name popped up a few times. Each page contained handwritten notes, reminders of nodes, clarification, and further study.

Just when he thought he was getting nowhere, Jack ran across something new. A personnel page for a teenaged girl named Alita. No surname. He guessed this was the one mentioned in the side notes. It listed the basics. Name, address, age, rank. Specialties and emergency contact. He'd had his own team fill out similar forms. The last portion was called status. The word deceased had been scratched out and replaced with transferred in the handwriting he assumed was that of Commander Harborne.

The next page after this, he discovered, began a large portion written in that familiar yet strange scrawl.

_I have opened the locket. I was disturbed to learn that what was shown to me was the same as I had dreamed. The same as the Doctor had forewarned. I fear my interaction with the artifact has awakened in me one of those senses of my other half better left dormant._

_I was shown, partly, the past. I realized quickly that this was a recording of some sort. A historical record from some point in the future that had somehow fallen out of time and into the rift. I watched as through a spectre's eyes the Torchwood that was to follow the year 2000. I watched as living plastic run amuck. As slitheen painstakingly infiltrated the British government. I saw the march of he Cybermen as Canary Wharf burned._

_Helpless I stood by as a woman named Suzie murdered for knowledge._

_I saw it all, the world that was. The horrors of a year hidden between the hands of the clock and remembered by none save those who rode the eye of the storm aboard the sky tankard Valiant. The dead walked, and children stopped. And one by one Torchwood fell into the abyss of Death._

_As I looked into the heart of Time itself, I realized the connection to these events. But it was not he who I saw in the vortex. I saw a man, an impossible man. He turned his back, and he walked away. It was not this man of legend, Sir Doctor of Tardis. I know him, can sense him now. This impossible man was someone I know far better than I know myself._

_This locket was never about telling the future, though I did see from that point on the ribbons of Time unfurl. This locket is a chronicle of a single man's past. That is why Alex gave Cardiff to him. To try and change the horrible future he saw by changing the man who created it._

_I saw the Great Migration of Xaxia, Ardos, and the prison worlds. I saw the Empire of England rise in the absence of the world's mightiest superpower. But for me, these things are of the past. It is fact to me, and the things of bed time tales._

_The last I saw is something yet to pass. The Time Lords held a philosophy. Like the individual, worlds go through periods of growth. A steady increase or decline of the planetary life cycle. Also, like the individual, worlds reach an impasse. Decisions must be made, or civilizations destroyed. A planet's birth... or its death. According to the Doctor, these brief periods are called **moments**. Whoever takes possession of such a thing controls the destiny of the world, sometimes the universe._

_One such time is fast approaching. The black towers have risen, and followed me all of my life. They are coming to Earth..._

_If what I saw in the locket is indeed the same as the nightmares I have had since I was a child, only Torchwood stands in the way. Only we can defend the most precious moment in all of Earth's history. But I fear, as I have realized the nature of this locket and who's life it shows, there is no way around total world war._

_No matter what the ribbons of Time cast out, I am certain of one single thing. I will do what Jack Harkness **never** could. As a Time Lord, it is my responsibility to balance out the equation now that the Doctor, my Doctor, is gone. I will stay, and I will fight. I will take possession of the Moment, and I will never let mankind fall._

* * *

Jesse was freed of her synthetic skin in the comfort of Quincy and Harborne's Skypoint apartment. The costume soaked in he bathroom. Grease and grime, dirt and oils lifting from inside and out.

Quin found her on the balcony, overlooking the city. Her eyes were closed as she relaxed in the vibrations of life below. "Will he be alright?" she asked when the door slid open.

Quin stepped up beside her, and she turned to face him, opening her eyes. He gave her a warm mug. "Tea," he said.

She nodded.

"He'll recover."

"You're a terrible liar."

"You're cheating by reading my vibrations," he said. "I don't know. I'm not a doctor. If only Martha were still here."

"If only," she repeated, turning her gaze back to the lights of Cardiff. "He told you about what's in the cell. He never keeps secrets from you."

"Yes. I'm sorry you got dragged into this."

"I should be the one apologizing. My people brought this scourge to your world. It's only fitting that I be the one to help you end it."

"I don't follow."

Jesse sighed and closed her eyes. "What I didn't tell James is that he was the one who brought the Morloki here, with us. He was, will be, he Great Liberator of the Sardosi. It was a secret I've kept for many years."

"Why tell me?"

"Because you understand him. And the importance of the Laws of Time. If he knew, it would undo him. And since he and I first met, I have ensured he accomplish this task. Even when my own mother tracked him down as a boy, trying to change the course of history... I made sure with my own hands that she would not succeed."

He remembered reading a UNIT report on her mother. How she had suddenly gone AWOL and went to the crumbling Americas. Her loss impacted the Sardosi greatly. She had been their leader by both heritage and deed. Another of her children later rose to power after Jesse had left the tribe.

"That's why they want you dead. You killed the queen."

"It had to be done," she said calmly, sipping her tea. "She sought to kill James and infect his father with parasites. If Jack Harkness were captured and used as a host, entire armies could be bred in a matter of weeks. Mankind would be extinct in two months time."

"You were only a child..."

"That's why she didn't see it coming." Jesse drained her tea. She let the mug balanced on the railing. At the door, she stopped but did not turn around. "If Eddie turns, leave him to me. You and the others are too attached."

When she left him, Quin stared at her mug, processing the conversation. No wonder she was based in Moscow. Glasgow attracted the brains. Sydney the sane. Cardiff the rogues and revolutionaries. But Moscow... The mysterious Director there collected only the most twisted and deplorable.

"Bloodthirsty bitch." It wasn't an insult from him. It was an observation warning this unsuspecting city of what he felt would soon be unleashed.

* * *

"You're _where_?"

Harborne's voice carried through the open door. Jack heard him swearing.

"Just don't kill the poor bastards," he replied to whatever the woman on the other end said. "When you get to your mother's I'll send for you. And don't call this phone again. You know it's the red palace phone."

Harborne chuckled, his mood lifting some. "Let 'em. No one would believe them."

When he hung up, he turned to see Jack in the doorway. "Mattie's alright. Ended up in Scotland. With a satsuma in her pocket. Hijacked a bumbling trio of stoners heading for Leeds."

Jack was glad to hear it. "Why didn't you tell her about-"

"She'll be briefed when she gets in. I didn't want to add to her troubles and cause her to commit triple homicide." He looked at the folder tucked under Jack's arm.

The captain noticed. "Not done. Came out to look something up."

Harborne nodded. "Station 4. Hasn't been used in years. Log in under Johnny Smith, pass code Chameleon. It'll access my personal servers." Pushing up his sleeve, revealing fully to Jack for the first time the well beaten wrist strap that should have belonged on his own arm. The commander absently checked on Eddie as he stepped past Jack.

"What are you?"

"Something... new," was all he said as he left him.

There was still the matter of the old woman in the warehouse to deal with.

* * *

Quincy spent his day catching up on sleep. There were no errands to run, no work for him to do. There wasn't even anything decent on the 5000 channels of television. Nothing but sleep unless he got another call from the base.

But sleep was hard to come by. He kept thinking about Eddie. If only he were more skilled in triage. If only he'd let Martha have a proper look at him.

If only...

He sat up in bed, staring at the dresser as his mind began to work it out. Everything from Jesse made sense now. He had to get back. He knew why Jack had been bought to Earth. He had to get into the Crypt and piece the rest together. He had to talk to Eddie before he young man was lost to them forever.

Harborne stepped out of the freight lift. The head of Waste Management saw him. "Sir," he said as he nodded towards the side office where they'd stuffed the old woman.

The commander gave a small nod in return before stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

"Took your sweet time boy. I could have died of old age waiting for you."

"Somehow I have a hard time believing that," he said. "How can I help you today?"

"I have word from Sapas," she said. "Is this room secure?"

"Very."

"Good. No need scaring everyone. The Sky Bridge was used to rip something from the stars. At great risk Sapas entered the domain of the dead below the bay. There she found a glittering machine that they used to do it. The power of the Sky Bridge broke it, but the deed was done."

"The Torchwood rift manipulator," he said, stroking his chin in thought before looking at her again. "I thought it was destroyed in he explosion. How could they use it? How could they even know how? They're beasts. They don't think."

"There are some, Sapas said, that are different from the others. They are striped like the large jungle cats. These, she tells, controlled the machine. And yet another rules over them. She is like them, but different."

"How so? Did she say?"

The old woman nodded. "She sings. A song of terrible despair. And those below here toil as she sings. When she stops, so to do they."

* * *

Jack sat in front of station 4. He watched as it came to life, chugging along until at last a black screen with blinking neon green letters came up.

He punched in exactly what Harborne had told him. The monitor flared to life in an array of red, then purple, then blue. Blue tinted with green. The way the colors swirled and melded together reminded him of the vortex.

Quite suddenly it was replaced with an interactive carousel of icons. Each button rotated the set, selecting the one assigned to that specific button. After scrolling through a few times, Jack noticed none of the icons were named. They were each assigned a double digit number. Other than that, they were each identical. He selected the one of the smallest numerical value.

The screen went blank. He thought he'd done something wrong, but was relieved when instead a blurry video began to play out.

_"Hold still. I'm tying to focus!" called a male voice._

_"Come on! I's just over the hill!"_

_As the blurred world began to focus, a teenaged Jack Harborne was running up the hill to the top. The sun was setting. The teen was getting closer only because the cameraman was climbing the hill after him. As he reached the crest, he caught the teen against a backdrop of a magnificent city. he angle of the sun caused it to almost light up the landscape._

_"Isn't it beautiful Doctor?"_

_"Reminds me of home," the camera man replied. "The last light shining on the Great Citadel."_

_"It's better than I imagined it would be."_

_A laugh. "Just think. If you hadn't crashed your old man's truck, you'd never have seen this."_

_The teen chuckled, turning back to the camera. His hair was a mess. His face red from running. He was, like the city in the distance, framed in the dying light. Young James seemed quite otherworldly. "Do you think we'll make it before dawn?"_

_"One thing at a time Jack. We should probably make camp. Just because the war is over doesn't mean there aren't beasties about."_

_"Since when are you ever cautious?"_

_"Since I promised your dad I'd bring you back in one piece."_

Jack watched the rest of the video play out. The camera was set on a rock. He could see the stone along the bottom edge of the screen. The pair had camped out in a ruined outpost. The teen had built a fire while the Doctor, **his** Doctor was attempting to show off his cooking skills.

_"My dad makes better stir fry than that."_

_"Oi! He's also at least a thousand years older than me. Give a guy some credit for trying!"_

He laughed as he watched the pair bumble through the next few minutes before the Doctor went over to turn off the camera. The screen returned to the carousel. Jack scrolled through at random to select another. Instead of a video, he was treated to a folder full of documents. He checked through them, learning they were mostly legal papers. A copy of a birth certificate for Jonnathan James Harborne, Jr. School records. Dental records. A small handful of medical reports. It was the medical papers that caught his attention.

Obviously, these files had been removed from public domain. Not destroyed, but perhaps kept here for sentimental purposes.

Jack skimmed through them, frowning as he read. There was one in particular that troubled him. A case study of a boy who died in a car crash, only to get up and walk away unscathed. Chills went down his spine as he read about the fate of the other teens involved.

"No wonder he snatched that out of the public..." he said, closing files. Once more, he was treated to the carousel of icons.

When Quin arrived at the hub, he learned quickly that both Jack and Harborne were tied up with other matters. That was much in his favor, as what he had in mind would send his boss into one of his famous tirades ending with a good bottle of Gondorian ale.

It was against protocol to break quarantine, and was one of the few rules the director of Zone 5 followed most severely. The first thing he did was to head down to he Crypt, guessing that Jesse would be down there.

When he found her in the stairwell, he coaxed her down to help him with his research.

**CHAPTER 28**

"What are you looking for?"

"UNIT records on the Sardosi migration. Anything we've got on the species. I think I've got a lead on Jack, thanks to what you told me."

"Then we can save Eddie and unravel the plot!"

"Exactly. You're the key. Being one of them, you know how the Sardosi function," Quin said, climbing down the ladder with a box. "Using your knowledge of the migration and why it happened will help you spot any anomalies."

She smiled deviously. "Know your enemy. Utilize all tools at your disposal. I underestimated you baby face."

"That was my intention."

"You're a vicious devil at heart, aren't you?"

"Whatever you've heard I assure you is a complete lie." He handed her the box, which was heavier than it looked. Then, he climbed back up for another. "I need you to go through all of these carefully. You said your mother tried to infect Jack before with parasites. I pulled one out of Eddie. At least one person had to have been infected already when you all came here. If you can trace this back to patient zero, we'll have a better chance of fighting these things."

"And what are you going to do while I do your legwork?"

"I'm going to talk to Edward. After hearing what Jack and Mattie experienced at the mall, I have a theory I need to confirm before he loses the power to speak."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

He sighed, grabbing down the second box stuffed with old UNIT files on the Sardosi. "You and me both."

* * *

Mattie sat in the passenger sear of the van. Her gun arm was tired, but she'd found a position to keep her hand steady. Not an easy task on the bumpier parts of the road. She kept her eyes peeled for specific streets, telling the driver to turn. Her intent was to get them all so confused and turned around that they would never be able to find their way back to where she would decide to jump ship.

At last, she grew bored. "Turn right up ahead and stop three blocks down."

"You're not going to kill us, are you?" the driver asked as he took the turn.

"We've been over this, Liam. It's too much paperwork. It'd be easier if I shot you in the kneecaps. But that'd cause too much of a mess."

One of the guys in the back laughed nervously. "For a homicidal dame you sure are lazy."

The van slowed down to a crawl. "No. Just efficient. Stop at the yellow door."

When they came to a stop she turned in her seat some. "Well boys, this is me. You keep driving down this road. At the end, turn left and keep going. There's a petrol station down that way. On the right." She opened the door and stepped out with a smile. "Don't look back. Look back and I'll shoot the gas tank. I'm a crack shot."

"I'm sure you are," said Liam, trying not to let the fear creep even further into his voice.

When she shut the door they sped off, tires screeching. She didn't wait around after she lost sigh of them. Quick on her feet she doubled back the way they had brought her. A few streets down the way she turned. Soon, she was standing in the doorway of the Williams home.

Her mother stared at her.

"You look rough."

Mattie smirked. "You don't know the half of it," she said as she stepped inside. Reaching into her pocket she asked, "Want a satsuma?"

* * *

Harborne paid the old woman well for her trouble. After sending her on her way he sat in the office for a long time. His mind processed the information faster than he could have explained it. He had already developed a plan, and now was applying the scientific process to it and weighing the variable results.

The Sardosi were at the thick of it. There were a few bodies in frozen storage from the Opera. The biohazard had been too severe for an autopsy. Now it seemed unavoidable.

He felt the loss of his eye had been well rewarded. The morloki were taking people for food, or worse, conversion. Knowing there was a mastermind behind it all made things so much easier. He wasn't going to fight a horde. He was going to fight a queen.

The singing was a form of control. A trait rare among the Sardosi. Jesse had this ability, but not to the extent she could control others. She could only enhance the experience of emotions. Tap into the natural empathic field that bound all life together. But if he could find a way to amplify her ability, use it to control the monster in the cell. Then maybe...

His coat pocket vibrated. He took out his PRM and checked the number. Mattie. She had made it to Gwen's. At least something was going right today. Tapping his ear, he laughed. "Have a nice ride Inspector?"

* * *

Gwen set the cup down on the end table as her daughter listened to the rings.

"Rough night?"

"Shhh," Mattie hissed. "Ha ha. Very funny," she said, clearly not talking to her mother. "Yeah. But I'm dog tired. How's the old timer?"

Gwen sat in he chair across from her. Mattie knew she should have gotten up and taken her call to another room. But she was too tired to worry about it.

"Good... No, no. I'm fine. I'll give a full report when I get back to base... No. I filled them with enough bullets to keep a good distance. No even a finger touched me. Could have Eds take another look at my jumper though. You know I bloody LOATHE Scotland. Would rather have ended up in Splott."

Gwen's ears pricked up at the mention of her second born. Something grew in the pit of her stomach. A sense of dread and panic she couldn't explain. With a touch of that old sense that something wasn't right. That slight sense that she thought buried in the rubble of her old life.

"Need an extraction ASAP." Without saying goodbye, but with a loud yawn, Mattie hung up. She tossed the cordless receiver to the other end of the couch. Before she could drink her tea, her mother spoke.

"Please tell me you still work for Andy."

Mattie sighed. She knew she should lie, keep her cover she'd been so careful to maintain and preserve. But she also knew that the truth had to come out sometime. Her own father had told her as much, claiming it would be better from her own mouth than some stranger popping round to tell them she'd been killed in the line off duty.

Setting her cup back down without so much as a sip she looked up at her mother's expectant face. Drawing a deep breath, it was now or never.

"No," she said. "I was transferred to special ops." As she had spoken, Gwen's face contorted into a mask of anger, tempered with grief. "Eds and I... we hunt aliens."

"Your brother," Gwen said after a long, awkward silence, "I can understand. A mind like his, they'd be insane not to snatch him up... But you? After everything this family has been through. To keep you safe, to keep you clean from that life. This is how you..."

Of all the reactions Mattie had witnessed her mother have to such news, this was the first time she'd not thrown her daughter out of the house in the first breath. The first time Gwen had not started screaming in rage. All to be washed away with a healthy dose of brain bleach.

Gwen stared her in the eye. "Which one was it? UNIT? Secrets Act Enforcers?"

Mattie swallowed hard. She felt as if she were a child again, chastised for doing something naughty or picking on her baby brother again. She willed her voice no to crack as she answered. "Torchwood."

The one word that, when uttered in the Williams household, was worse than any swear. Worse than any misdeed. That mysterious, magical word of her father's bedtime stories. The one word that when Mattie uttered it at age 13 had earned her a slap from her mother so hard it threw her from the kitchen table and spilling into the floor.

It was that taboo word she spoke, and lived by now.

"How did they do I? What dirt did those bastards get on you?" With each word Gwen's anger silently rose. "They were the ones who gave you back your legs, weren't they?"

"Mum, don't do this. They didn't con me, or lure me in with a bribe. I'm no dirty cop."

"That's how they get you. Blackmail. Hollow promises."

"I _volunteered._ When I was still stuck in the chair."

For the first time, Mattie's resolve strengthened. She had always dosed and run before Gwen would wake. But now she stood her ground. It could have been because she didn't have the option to drug her. It could have been her exhaustion fading into a second wind. Whatever it was, Mattie knew one thing. She wanted **more**. "I was always meant for this life. My whole childhood I pretended I was the hero in all of dad's stories. I wanted to be just like you. I dreamed of saving the world every night. It's why I became a cop. It's why I was paralyzed for two and a half years! And after all that when I finally find a way to make my dreams come true I'd turn away?" The passionate young detective didn't give her mother a chance to answer. "Not on your life!"

* * *

Quincy stood outside the door. Slowly he drew in a breath. Mentally he ticked off the list of supplies in his hands. Chemicals, syringes, needles, two types of hand scanners. And a gun. Tipped with a silencer... Just in case. There was no telling what may happen when he brought Eddie around.

Shifting the bin to one arm, he punched in the code to open the door. The flat stone wall groaned. A rectangular section receded half an inch inward before raising upwards with a grinding sound to let him through. Stepping inside Quincy turned to touch a hidden panel. His hand was canned, and the panel receded then dropped down as the door closed.

Punching in another code, a block rose from the floor beside the cot. Quin went to it and set the bin down. Then, he took out a pair of latex gloves. His movements were methodical as he checked his patient over before pulling out straps from hidden pockets on the bed. He carefully looped them across the prone body of his colleague and tightened them.

Under different circumstances he'd enjoy this act. A very sadistic prank to pull on the poor boy while he was out on his ass. But the kid wasn't pissed. He was sick, possibly dying. This was no laughing matter. Assured that Edward was tied down tight, Quincy returned to the block and the bin. He began removing each item to prepare them for the reawakening process. He laid them out neatly before taking a second set of tools and prepping them o re-induce the coma.

Standing by the bed, he took the tubing of the IV in hand and snapped a syringe in place at a splitter. Gently he pushed in the plunger, then unsnapped it.

He waited for the chemical to pump through the boy's bloodstream before adding a second syringe full. It took four attempts to wake him.

Licking his lips, Eddie opened his mouth. "What..." he managed. "I can't move. Why can't I move?" He saw Quin from the corner of his eye.

"Calm down. You've been in a coma for several hours. Everyone is working hard to solve what's happened to you, but right now you need to remain calm."

"Where's Matts! Let me go! You sick son of a bitch!" He tried to spit at him, but found not even his head could turn to do so.

"I need you to remember. To help me. Your life depends on this. Otherwise you, your sister, and half of Cardiff will die. Do you understand? We don't have time to mess around."

* * *

Jesse sighed, tossing another thick volume across the table. UNIT had been so meticulous in their record keeping on nearly each individual refugee. Unfortunately they had failed to differentiate between important and mundane activities.

Picking up a seemingly plain folder of clippings, she skimmed across the headlines of old newspaper articles.

It wasn't until she'd come across one about the closing of an art gallery that she realized she'd seen these before...

They had been run in the local paper of that small town so long ago. That place where she'd first met her beloved Commander. And then, looking back through the articles she had so dismissed off hand, she realized why they were together in this one place... Art exhibitions alongside gruesome animal attacks. She remembered her mother, and the gruesome acts she had committed in the name of self preservation.

"Oh gods..."

Rising from the chair she ran for the stairs. She had to get to someone, anyone, before the beast began the same pattern through Eddie.


	11. CH29 thru CH31

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
CHAPTERS 29-31**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 29**

Her mother had left her alone. It was two hours of excruciating solitude. Two hours left in her childhood home to examine knick knacks and photographs. She listened closely to the sounds of cars outside. She hoped her ride would come before Gwen's return.

She froze in the sitting room when she heard her mother's footsteps in the house. The purposeful steps on the hardwood floors alerted her to the woman's direction.

"Matilda!"

"In here," she replied, tuning from the mantle where she had been inspecting a chipped vase. As she turned, she saw her mother enter the room with a rusted metal box under her arm. Keen brown eyes spotted the dirt that had caked itself on the latches and hinges. The smudges on her clothes told her the woman had been the one to dig it out of the ground.

"Come here." Gwen sat in a plush, floral print chair. She set the box on the low coffee table that served as the room's centerpiece. Mattie did as she was told. Her resolve faltering for just a moment as she sat close by on one of the two couches. Her eyes went from the box to her mother's face.

"How long ago?" Gwen asked.

"What?"

"How long ago did you-"

"Four years. From the start."

"And your brother?"

"Two, avoiding a prison sentence." Mattie sat with her hands pressed between her knees. Under her mother's intimidating stare she felt 13 again and compelled to speak. "He's actually responsible for the implants I have now. I used to have to wear god awful leg gear He's so good with tech mum. And the languages-"

"How many times did you drug me?"

"What? I'd never-"

"Don't lie to me. I know you've done it. I may not remember, but there's a pattern that follows you girl. Your visits are usually... hazy. I know you've been by, but not anything you've done."

Mattie was silent, staring at her knees.

"How many times?"

"I... I don't remember. Ten? Maybe twelve? But you have to understand, mum. You were in my position once."

"And the last time I saw you?"

"I had it with me," she said guiltily. "But I never used it. I... didn't need to."

Gwen nodded. That at least wasn't a lie. She remembered quite clearly her daughter's last visit. Leaning forward, she brushed some of the dir from the box. As she opened it, the hinges creaked.

Mattie looked up, eyeing the box as it was opened. Inside she saw an earpiece. Similar to the ones she used a work, but bulkier. Ancient compared to modern standards. This was taken out and put aside as her mother dug deeper. She found an envelope beneath various gadgets. She held this out to her daughter.

"Take them."

"What... what are they?"

"You'll see," she replied, sitting back.

Mattie opened the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of papers and photographs. The photos were old, brittle. And in them all she saw the same face. The same man.

Gwen saw her daughter's reaction. "You recognize that man?"

Slowly, her daughter nodded. "It's him. The man we pulled out of a weevil den after a rift spike."

"This box, and a few other items, was all I could take from the crater. I couldn't bear to destroy them. Some of these things I wouldn't even know how to. So I buried it in hopes I'd never have to look at it again."

"Mum..."

"Torchwood consumes and corrupts everything it touches. It was a great, wonderful thing once. But no more. Not since that time. It takes everything and leaves you a hollow shell. From it, there's only one true escape."

"Death," Mattie said. "I know." She slid the papers and pictures back into the envelope. Leaning forward she put it back in the box.

"Rhys says I'm the lucky one. I survived. But at times I wish I'd been the one in the building when it was gassed." She shook her head. "You have a choice to make. You're young; you still have time to get out alive before it destroys your soul. Your family, your life, or... them."

"My life for the sake of billions is a risk I'm willing to take every day."

Gwen nodded, rising from her chair. "You'll never live long enough to understand what you're fighting for... And you'll never understand why I'm going to do what I'm about to do. But it's from a mother's love for her child." She drew a deep breath, and then looked her daughter square in the eye. "My children are dead."

"But mum!"

"Never darken my door again. Take the box and leave."

Storming out, she slammed the door to the hallway behind her. Mattie listened to the footfalls as Gwen went upstairs. Running through the house. They stopped in the master bedroom. Swallowing hard, Mattie looked at the box of secrets. "You're wrong," she whispered. "I do understand..." She put a hand to he stomach briefly. "More than you'll ever know."

Half an hour later Mattie's ride arrived. She took the box with her.

Gwen watched on in silence from her bedroom window, heartbroken as only a mother could be.

* * *

Jack reached out and grabbed Jesse by the waist. He swung her around to face him with a cheesy smile on his face. "Where's the fire missy?"

"Quin. He's with Eddie. We **must** get him out."

"He's a big boy. Can take care of himself."

She pulled away, shaking her head furiously. "You don't understand! He and the beast! They're linked! And the beast is linked to the others! When he's awake, it can use him!"

"Use him how?" Jack asked, taking her by the arm. He pulled her to the nearest elevator.

"I... I can't be sure. But... Morloki are telepathic. Eddie's infected, the same way my mother was."

"Whatever Eddie knows, it knows?"

She nodded. "And he knows everything about this place. And it can make him kill."

* * *

It had taken quite a bit of sedative, but Quin had been able to calm him down enough to talk. He had both video and sound recording as he attempted to pry information out of him.

"Just a few more," Quin said. "Ho long have you been having the nightmares?"

Eddie groaned. He was somewhere between waking and dreaming. His mind filled with Her song. His brain feeling as if someone were sifting through it. Commanding him to rise, to kill, to eat. "I..." he managed."She won't stop..."

"Concentrate Edward. Focus only on my voice. I know you can do it."

"I... The parasite. You took it... Every time I close my eyes. She's there." His voice was strained, his tone becoming more and more child like in nature. Wide, tear rimmed eyes stared straight at Quincy. "She knows you," he said, fear overcoming him. "You're dead! You can't be here!"

Quin grabbed up a syringe. Quickly he hooked it into the IV. As he administered the different medications, the young man continued shouting as he fought against his bonds.

"You! You'll ruin everything!" Then, as Quin snapped the last of his syringes onto the tubing, Eddie's eyes narrowed as he watched him from the corner of his eye. His voice became that of the beast, that of the Morloki. "We will rise and we will devour. Lilith will take the immortals and she will make them like US."

As Quin injected the last syringe into the IV, he prayed it would work. The hunger, the evil left Eddie's face, and once more he was the wide eyed, fearful human. "Won't... Won't let you..." He started to drift off into slumber as the door opened to the cell. "Have them."

Jesse ran to the bedside, grabbing Quin by the arm. "Are you alright?" she asked in a panic.

Quin nodded, removing himself from her grip to clean up his supplied. "Didn't get quite what I wanted, but I learned a great deal near the end."

Jesse waited for him to face her before raising her hand in rage. She slapped him across the face hard enough that Jack heard it from the door. "Don't you **ever** do that again!"

"It was necessary," Quin said nonchalantly.

Jack frowned, stepping aside to let them pass. "Necessary or not, you put us all in danger. Jess was just telling me how when the kid's awake the monster-"

"Has access to his memories. I guessed as much when it took him over," Quin said. "Inform he commander that I've had a breakthrough in the case. Boardroom meeting is needed." He left them behind outside the cell. They followed, but Quin was able to cut them off by hitting the door close button in the elevator.

* * *

Jesse and Jack were waiting in the break room, enjoying a dinner of whatever they could pull out from the fridge when Harborne's voice boomed over the PA system. He instructed them to congregate in the boardroom.

"Every damn time," Jack said.

Jesse sighed. "Someday we'll get to have a proper sit down meal without him squawking at us."

"If only," Jack replied. He helped her quickly tidy up before escorting her to the oversized office. "After you," he said, holding the door open for her.

Just as before, Harborne sat at the head of the table. Each member took their place, with one change. Jesse sat in Eddie's seat rather than Quin's. Already, cups were set out.

Harborne was looking over a datapad while absently sipping his hot tea.

"Glad to have you back Matilda," he said, setting the pad down.

The woman nodded, noting her brother's absence. One hand lay on the dirt crusted box on the table. "Where's Eds?"

Quin drew a sharp breath. Jack broke in first. "Locked up."

"What?"

"He's in a coma. Has been since last night. I was forced to chemically induce one after Jesse found him in a catatonic state on the floor. It was around the time you two jumped," Quin explained before Jack could answer her. "But that's not all."

He tapped the table, activating a built in touch screen at his seat. He typed in a few nodes to bring up the video feeds of the Morloki and Eddie. "This is streaming right now. It appears docile, just standing there doing nothing," he said, and then called up the footage from his time with Eddie. For Mattie's sake, he left the audio on mute. She didn't need to hear he strangled screams of her brother before he had been calmed by sedatives.

"These are from earlier. Taken at the exact same time. Watch as the monster becomes agitated as Eddie comes around."

The monster in the cell became agitated, violent as it clawed at the walls in abandon.

"It became calmer here when I began administering the sedatives. It found the place in the wall where the door is hidden. It even felt around for the secret control panel. Thankfully it needs both body heat and the correct DNA to reveal itself. Otherwise..."

"Enough," Mattie said, looking away in disgust. Quin obliged, removing the video holograms and replacing them with he written data he had compiled.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Harborne, who had been silent until now snapped. "Quarantine means QUARANTINE! You take a risk like that you better be ready to die for it!"

"Without that risk, I wouldn't have proven Jesse's story and my theory. We wouldn't know the extent of his infection, nor how he got that way. And we wouldn't know that they not only want Jack, but you as well, Sir." Quin's last remark was spoken like a backhanded slap in the face.

"Boys calm down," Jack said. "Unless someone starts handing out options the little lady's going to start shooting." He nodded to Mattie.

Silence hovered in the boardroom for what felt to Jack an eternity before Harborne spoke up. "While they've infested the whole city, my contact in the slums verified the existence of not just a nest, but the main hive in the Bay. We know they thrive in complete darkness, and like he morlocks of H.G. Wells they consume human flesh, are insanely fast and are more powerful than any weevil."

Mattie nodded. "When Eds and me... There was a fight over territory. But when I went back with Jack there were only those things. And they're smart. Laid traps. Pinned us down."

"They knew you were coming. Though at the time the telepathic link was still weak, Eddie was still connected. Our plans were taken from his mind without him ever knowing it."

Jack grunted in agreement. "From what I could see there were three types. Pawns; drones like at the Opera. Cannon fodder for the girl's heavy fire. Then something like a berserker. The real wild ones. Nothing could take those things down."

"And the third?" Harborne pressed.

"They hung back. Looked a bit like the one in the cell. I'd say they were controlling the others."

Mattie agreed. "Sounds about right. I'll look in the databases. See who's missing and fit the criteria. Quin, you'll get me up to speed?"

"Of course. They'll have had the parasite removed somehow. We'll start with the NHS and work out from there."

Harborne looked from them to Jesse and subtly shook his head before speaking. "According to my contact, the hive is buried deep in the old Torchwood tunnels. Most likely the ones directly beneath the water. That's why you couldn't sense them when we were there before. Jack, I need you to map out everything you know about the old base. Every last tunnel. We'll use those to plan our next move."

"Got it," he said. Jack had seen the silent signals between the leader and the Sardosi. Though in Harborne's personal server he saw bits and pieces of her, something still didn't sit right with him about those two.

"I've got a theory I need to test. We may need to bring him back around," Harborne said. "Mattie, as your brother's proxy, I need you permission."

"You don't need it," she said.

He nodded. "You're right. But I want your consent. It's... the humane thing in this situation."

"I don't think it's wise to wake him again. He's on the brink. It nearly took him over. It did, briefly." Quin said.

Mattie was silent. He was all she had left in the world now. If she lost Eds, she didn't know what she would do. Her mother was right. Slowly she nodded. "He knew the risks when he signed on, as we all did. Do what you must."

Harborne nodded, and then turned his attention to Jesse again. "How's your voice?"

"Well rested. Why?"

"Sapas discovered a Queen Bee. She was singing to Sardosi drones. I want to see if you can reproduce the same results. If so, you'll be the ticket in the door. If all goes well Cardiff will be Morloki free." He sipped his tea, pulling a face when he found it cold. "Dismissed."

Each went their way. When Jack rose, Harborne looked right at him. Jack froze on the spot under that young but ancient gaze. In that one brown eye Jack saw the same commanding presence he always felt in the Tardis.

"Sit," Harborne said as he took off his eye patch.

Closing his eye, he rubbed the one that had been covered as if it still hurt. He opened them again, and Jack saw only one brown... the new one was blue. The same striking, brilliant blue as his own.

"You know something else."

He nodded, setting the eye patch on the table next to his tea. "I can't go into specifics. But because of who you are, who _we_ are, I can bend the Laws of Time a little. You were brought back here for two reasons. But there's only one I can elaborate on because it pertains to our current predicament."

"Explain."

"The Morloki want to infect you, that much is obvious. They'll try again but not for a very long time from your perspective. This time, they had a little help. It wasn't random chance the rift picked you up. They have control of the rift manipulator. I was one of the few artifacts never recovered. They think if they infect you, you'll be the perfect host."

"How do you know?"

"I can't tell you that. If you knew, it would change the pasts of everyone here. Myself most of all. But you needed to know."

He nodded reluctantly. "Understood," Jack said. "So... the perfect host. Can't die. Endless supply and all that."

"Exactly. They infect you now, and the Earth is doomed. Humanity is doomed. Not just because of the present, but what you're meant to do in the future. Don't know about you, but I quite like Earth. It's the birthplace of Starbucks and soft-core porn in the form of historical dramas."

"You didn't have many friends as a child did you?"

Harborne smirked. "My best friends are a vicious beast from Barcelona and an alien singer that wants to sleep with every male she meets."

"Remind me to sign you up for some after school sport."

"I was captain of the Math Team, and president of the Astronomy Society."

"Not an improvement," Jack said.

**CHAPTER 30**

Jesse stepped into the office with a groan. Dawn had come and gone. She had been singing through a microphone to the monster all night with no success. I just stood there, staring at the camera as if it could see her. Once she thought she'd gotten through to it, but it was really the creature moving to sit down like a person.

She threw herself into one of the chairs in front of the desk. "I'm beat," she croaked, rubbing her throat. It hurt to even speak.

"I've been going over the video from Quin's interrogation. It's... frightening. But I think they key is the period when Edward was sedated. As you saw, when he first woke it was wild. But when he was in the twilight state it functioned like it was clear headed. Through him the thing knew where the door was, and the panel to open it."

She nodded and croaked out, "Linked minds. Telepathic."

Harborne agreed, having already known that. "He has to be conscious for it to function normally. Maybe we're going about this the wrong way. I'd hoped he could stay asleep... But you should be singing to Eddie. Modern science claims people in comas can hear those around them"

"Interesting theory, but unproven. Too many variables."

Jesse jumped in her seat at Quin's sudden arrival. But her surprise was quickly overcome as she took the warm cup he offered her. She sniffed it before drinking it down greedily.

"Peppermint," he said. "To soothe your throat."

"Any news?" Harborne questioned him.

"Some. None of it good sir." He set down the tray he had brought in for the singer and closed the door. "Secure the room."

Harborne quickly checked for cameras and audio. "Clean," he said.

"I feel I've been compromised."

"How so?"

"Eddie... claimed the one controlling the beasts knows me."

"I saw the video. It could be delirium."

"You know better than that." Quin shook his head. "Near the end he was trying to fight it. But it would be best if I kept a distance from the case. Remain on research only."

"No."

"But James," he said. "We can't risk exposure. It can change everything. Aside from Eddie, Jack's already found me once."

"No jump coordinates. Not his fault you were out looking for dinner."

Quin frowned. "I'm serious. He suspects. I can see it in his face. If Eddie's ravings reached him-"

"And I said no. We're a man down and I need all hands on deck. You'll just have to get creative. I don't care how. Just do your damn job."

"Of course." I'll do what I can to suppress information." He cut his eyes to Jesse. "All information."

* * *

It had been a long night. All nights sine this had begun were long. Her apartment was silent. No annoying typing to keep her awake. No one getting Hot Pocket crumbs all over her couch. No spilled coffee on the counter left to dry and stain the tea towels near it.

For the first time in her life, Matilda felt completely alone. Her brother was in a coma. Her mother had disowned her. Because of this she'd been cut off from her father. No even her friends on the force knew she was still alive. Even if they did, she couldn't tell them anything without wiping their memories of it.

Sighing in hopelessness, Matilda made her way to the kitchen, dropping the messenger bag full of files on the couch as she passed. There was a fresh bottle of rum in the fridge calling her name just as strongly as her bed.

Mattie spent the morning drinking and reading until her eyes hurt. File after file of NHS reports. Only a handful more were added to those she had found with Quin during the night. The criteria, while a short list, was very specific. It would be easy to miss if she didn't' know what to look for.

* * *

He found Jack at a terminal, digging in the computer archives. From the body language, Quin could tell the man was itching for action. Sitting around the hub was getting to him.

"Wouldn't do to go in uninformed," Quin said.

Jack glanced over his shoulder. "I'll have the maps done soon. There's tunnels not even I knew about."

"Naturally," he replied. "I need you to do something. We were trying to avoid it, but it turns out we really do need to wake him again. If it works, you'll see action soon enough."

"Why not you? You've done it once."

"It's complicated. My access to the cell was revoked because I broke the quarantine. Sort of his way of teaching me a lesson I suppose."

Jack turned around in his chair. This was the first quiet moment since he arrived which allowed him to be this close to the elusive man standing before him. No aliens, no jumper sickness, no one about to die. Complete peace. "Who are you?"

"Not who you think."

"How would you know?"

Quin's green eyes seemed to smile behind his mask of indifference. "I've studied the files of every Torchwood operative of the past and present extensively. It's my job to know what you're thinking ten steps before you do."

"Sounds familiar," Jack said gravely.

It was then Quin did something Jack hadn't expected. He laughed. A full bodied guffaw of a laugh. "Come on Jack old boy. Aside from time travel, how else could I be the same guy? I mean really? I've studied the records. Do we look like we have the facilities for that sort of work? Even if we did at one time, you and your team destroyed it."

"Your boss has a standard issue Time Agent teleporter strapped to his arm."

Quin puffed out his cheeks in annoyance. "Let's just get back to work." He pointed to the box of supplied he'd left out from his interrogation the night before. "I'll give you instructions over the comms. It's critical you get the dosages exactly right."

Groaning Jack turned back to his screens and cleared them. He was starting to think the entire mystery would remain just that. He got up and went to the bin, then followed Quin to the elevator.

"Next time you do a personnel search, look up Black Archive node RM292. Maybe reviewing the old UNIT files will help clear things up for you."

* * *

Harborne was in one of the lesser used areas of his facility. One no one else knew about. He was sitting down, but in his mind he was standing.

Physically he was wearing a headband, wires hanging out the back connecting him to a small green box. The box was called by those who created it a Telecube. On Earth, there were 4 known in existence, though records stated there were at one time 5.

Harborne, in his love of classic 20th century literature, called these boxes the _palantiri_ after the tales of author J.R.R. Tolkien. He named them thus because they served a similar purpose.

The young man was using it because it was the most secure method of meeting with the other Torchwood directors who worked and operated in other parts of the globe. Thus, his mind was in a digital representation of a boardroom resembling King Arthur's court. Specifically the Round Table. His presence was represented by an avatar in the costume of a royal fool. He retained his physical appearance in all but dress.

"You'd better have a good reason for this," said Martha, clad in armor. She seemed as if Joan of Arc, a banner planted in a stand a few feet behind her chair bearing the insignia of the Home Office in Glasgow. She did not appear the aged leader, but rather her youthful self as she had been when she walked the Earth so long ago.

"Who chose the theme this time?" he asked.

"I assumed it was you. You called this get together."

A laugh. A figure emerged from a corridor. "Sorry. That was me," the woman said. She was dressed in a stereotypical High Renaissance gown. The flowing skirts of her dark green dress kissed the floor as she walked. "I've been reading the old Arthurian legends lately. Would have pegged you as a mighty knight, James."

He forced a smile, his tone sarcastic. "Good to see you, too Cassandra."

"So why the secret meeting?" the princess asked as she took her place across from Martha. "My team and I are in the middle of tracking a pack of wild were-dingoes."

"And I'm late for a meeting with the King," Martha said as she crossed her arms.

There was a loud crack of thunder echoed through the great hall. There was a throne gilded in gold beneath a mural of St. George. From behind it emerged a man. Graying in the bead; the top o his head covered in a shining silver skullcap. He wore plain black robes and carried a staff.

Harborne and Martha recognized him immediately. It was Merlin from Harborne's favorite childhood film _Excalibur._ "Five," the commander said.

The Merlin figure nodded, taking his place opposite the young man. He sat silently, staring at him expectantly yet bored.

"I won't dress it up. Things in my territory aren't going well. Martha, since you left Eddie's condition has worsened. He's now in a coma."

"What?"

"There's more. We've got an infestation worse than any weevils I've ever seen. Streaming what we know now. We're trying to weaponize Jessica O'Mally's voice. So far no success. My men are trying one more option on that front."

Cassandra was looking over a piece of parchment with the streaming data on it. "What do you want us to do?"

"I need fresh eyes. It's not a typical bomb and blast. The presence of Captain Harkness adds problems. There's information of the past, but centuries into his future that we have to suppress. It's making him... difficult. I've given him as much as I could without altering too much. What he's seen so far has already affected my memories. So far, Quincy and Jesse are unaffected. I'm attempting to keep the temporal damage to a minimum."

"You're playing around with your own timeline, James," Martha said. "You saw what it did to the Doctor. We can't lose you, too."

"That's not the problem here," Cassandra said, laying the parchment down. "What we need to focus on is your infestation."

Five, who had been silent, spoke. "There is no time for me to send additional agents," he said, stroking his chin.

Martha nodded. "And my extra men left yesterday for Utah. Locals there claimed to find dragon fossils."

"You've got a seemingly sound plan, but there are two flaws," Cassandra said. "Not even O'Mally's pipes can hold out forever. Even if she manages to subdue he creatures, you'll need to be ready for the backlash when she stops."

"I'm going into the heart of the nest personally."

"The risks for the captain are he same for you young man. More so given your superior genetic code." Five shook his head. "You need someone expendable."

"**None** of my people are expendable," Harborne snapped.

"Secondly," Cassandra interrupted. "If you destroy the rift manipulator you can't send him back where he belongs. It would be better to salvage it."

"No," Martha said. "Torchwood tried to control the rift once before. It nearly ripped the world apart. It must be destroyed."

"Then you're faced with stranding the captain on Earth and further unraveling a very critical point in Time."

"Better than leaving us open to temptation. The manipulator offers ultimate power. No one, especially us, should ever have power like that."

Five looked at Harborne as the women squabbled. He gave the commander a wicked smile. "The old conundrum of the One Ring. You're the guardian the Tardis chose for the rift. What say you?"

All eyes were on him, and he nodded. "I will destroy it."

"Wit that settled, I want to point out the most dire flaw of all," Five said. "Agent Williams is infected. I have just reviewed the information regarding your past with Agent O'Mally. Her mother was infected. She turned fully into one of these... Morloki. Like Williams her parasite had been removed. There is no cure."

"We will find one," Harborne said boldly.

"Are you prepared to kill him if you don't find one?"

He was silent. Three pairs of digitized eyes were on him. It felt the same as if they were real and in that small dark room with him.

"I thought not. If he becomes one of them you are faced with a second infestation. Worse because then they'll know everything about your operations. The entire defense network of Earth that your technology expert designed, and control of he rift."

"I won't give up on him. I can't. Eddie's..."

"James, you may not have a choice." Martha's voice was as soothing as she could make it. "Send samples to Glasgow. I'll put my best minds on it. If we can't find a cure, we have a chance at developing a vaccine."

He nodded.

Cassandra sighed. "Well... According to your background info, this mess is tied closely to the Sardosian migration. There's a colony in the outback. I'll send a few people out there to canvas the area for information."

Then, she was gone. She had broken the connection, causing her avatar to vanish. Martha rose from her seat and went to him. She put a hand on the commander's arm. It almost felt real. "We'll save him. But right now you need to keep your head on the mission. Let my people do the science."

Soon, it was only the two men. And Harborne couldn't even be sure the other was a man.

"There's something else," Five said. "The attack at the crater. We've been sifting through the data Murdoch brought back with him. It's not directly related to your current situation, but a harbinger of what's to come. The energy readings are identical to those given off by Verta. Radiation of the time vortex, with a strong dose off huon energy and something we cannot trace. What we do know is the exact same energy signatures were last seen in Berlin during WWII."

"What are you saying? Somehow these things are connected to Quin? And that Torchwood Four-"

"We can be sure of only one thing here. Those were scouts. Sent back in time to find something with more power than anything we have ever known. The power to reshape time as it sees fit. Only Torchwood Four knew where it was."

**CHAPTER 31**

This time Eddie was blindfolded. Jack was instructed not to speak while in the cell as Quin guided him through the procedure. Soon Eddie lay groaning. He could sense someone nearby, and continuously asked for them to speak. But Jack kept his silence.

Quin watched on a screen outside the cell holding the actual beast. The screen was split, showing the beast and Eddie. "Alright Jesse. I've got the system set up. They'll hear you, but you won't hear them. Start when you're ready."

Up in the main offices, Jesse too watched on a split screen. Putting on the headset she adjusted the microphone piece at her mouth. She began the first song that came to mind. An ancient Sardosi lullaby her mother used to sing.

Quin watched the monster closely as it continued to examine the cell with a scrutinizing eye. At first there was no effect. But after a few moments he noticed the creature's reaction time had slowed. It was stumbling about, unsure of its movements.

"Try another song," he suggested.

She racked her brain for something, anything she could remember. Then it came to her, and she belted out a traditional war song of the Yngryss tribe.

Instantly the Morloki became enraged. Eddie thrashed against the straps that held him down.

"Back to the first one!" Jack shouted despite knowing she would not hear him.

Seeing the effect it was having, she cut herself off and restarted the lullaby. Once more the monster calmed. It stumbled in confusion before collapsing in a heap on the stone floor. Quin let her finish out the song before breaking the audio to Eddie's cell.

"Jack, he said. "Give him the cocktail and get out. We got what we needed."

Soon the trio were back together at the workstations reviewing the footage. Jesse was in awe at what she had done.

"I don't know how," Quin said. "But I'm glad it worked."

Jack laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "So am I. Thought the kid was going to break his neck trying to get loose."

Quin glanced at his hand from the corner of his eye, but made no move to shrug it off. "You guys get out of here for a while. I'll write up a report and dissect the data."

"Come with us," Jesse said. "We couldn't have done this without you."

"I don't know.. There's still a lot to do. The commander-"

"Can spare you for an hour or three," Jack said. "My treat."

"You're using _our_ credit cards."

"Okay, so technically your treat. But it's the thought that counts. Besides, I'm dying for a real meal."

After more poking and prodding from Jack and Jesse, Quin finally agreed. He insisted on no Chinese, Italian, or Indian food.

* * *

Mattie strolled back into work with a horrible hangover and a strange craving for sharp cheddar. What she found was an empty hub and computers whirring along on autopilot. She plopped down at her station and booted up her systems. She wanted nothing more than to crawl under her desk and sleep, but unfortunately the world still needed saving. She started a check of news feeds.

Just because they were working a case already didn't mean Torchwood worthy news didn't stop happening every day. What Mattie wouldn't give for a _normal_ workday.

The young woman was oblivious to her boss as he came through the workroom and slid up to Eddie's complex systems.

"Didn't know you were back," he said. "Any leads?"

His cheerfulness only added to the throbbing in her skull. "A few," she forced out.

"Good. Good. Say... have you ever worked with the theory of intelligence transference?"

"The what huh now?"

"Take that as a no," Harborne replied. "Do me a solid and take Rose out of the kennel. She's been in there patching up for long enough. Needs to exercise."

The fact that he was not only cheerful but also hyperactive annoyed and slightly upset her. She was so angry when she turned on him she didn't even notice he'd taken off his eye patch. "Is there _anything_ about this that gets to you? Are you so inhuman that you ENJOY watching people die?"

He turned on her with venom in his words. "My dad comes to Earth and I can't even rip into him because what he's done to me he won't do for another 200 years. Your brother didn't report his injury until it had festered and now he's the single most dangerous thing in this place. My... I have to constantly keep tabs on Quincy because if I leave him in the same room as Jack for too long they might end up bumpin uglies and my ex-wife is eating everything in sight while trying to encourage them to jump each other! My dog was nearly ripped to shreds! Oh yeah, then there's your fucking feelings!" He was visibly shaking with pen up rage.

"So sorry your royal highness if I seem a little preoccupied with saving the fucking day! AGAIN!"

For a second she thought he may jump and pummel her. She had seen him fall into fits of anger before, but this... She never wanted to see that murderous look of unchecked rage in him again. His hands were so stiff when he went back to work she was afraid he'd break the console on which he typed.

"He's your-"

"_**Don't**_," he spat, now focused on his work. "Go there and the last thing you ever see will be my face as I choke the life out of you."

* * *

Jesse wore a satisfied smile on her face as she sat back and rubbed her stomach. Jack was thankful they'd landed in a buffet.

The staff on the other hand...

"So," he said. "Outside work, how do you know each other?"

"It's complicated," Quin replied.

Jesse laughed. "No it's not," she said. "He stole my husband." She grunted when Quin elbowed her in the side. "What? He's bound to have figured it out on his own. If not now, then soon."

"Yes, but we were under orders not to discuss certain things with him."

"Come on! He's a smart man. It's so obvious."

"Uh... still here guys," Jack said.

Quin covered his face with a groan. Once the alien girl got started on a subject there was little anyone but Harborne could do to stop her.

"I was married to James ages ago. We grew up together, sort of. Anyway, I needed a cover during the witch hunts in Dixie so we got married. Convenience more than anything. He saw other people, so did I." She picked at a dinner roll.

Jack leaned forward with interest. "So you two never..."

"Oh, we did. Mostly because there wasn't anything good on tv. I learned a _lot _about humans that way. But... He left after a while. When I found him again, he'd moved in with this guy here."

Quin's face was red as he tried to hide himself in embarrassment. "What part of **classified** do you not understand woman?"

"What? It's not like I'm giving out all he details."

Jack smiled to himself. In all the misery and sorrow and drudgery around them these two could still find moments like this. Moments of laughter, of embarrassment. Some of the things that made life worth living.

"Let's go before you spill any more secrets," Quin said as he rose from the table.

She whined as she was pulled to her feet, reaching out for the basket of dinner rolls. "I'm still hungry..."

"You've eaten nearly everything these poor people had stocked. Besides we still have a pile of work to finish before we even think about storming the castle."

Jesse managed to grab the basket, holding it close to her chest with an angry growl.

Jack followed them out, hands deep in his coat pockets as he kicked around a few ideas in his head. The weakest link was obviously the singer, who seemed to get drunk off food the more she ate. Already he was thinking of ways to exploit this.

* * *

Harborne was found among print outs and boxes. Files, notebooks, and empty pop cans were strewn about.

Mattie had been careful to approach him after his previous outburst. She couldn't blame him, really. Everyone took their seemingly unshakable leader for granted. It was good, in her opinion, to see that he was human after all.

She inched towards him, afraid he may snap again. Papers littered the floor of he work room, covered in half-mad scribbles. She stopped to pick some up, unable to decipher the strange script and diagrams scrawled across them.

"Ancient high Gallifreyan. It's easier for my mind to process."

"Sir," she said.

"Water under the bridge, Mattie," he said as if he hadn't bitten her head off a short time ago.

"I think I've found something." She offered the datapad under her arm. He took it and scrolled through the pages. "Two men survived he removal of the parasite. However they were held by the psychiatric ward at the hospital."

"How's the headache?"

"I'll live another day," she replied as he continued to study here findings. "The doctors' reports show the two men were given regular transfusions. They believed whatever had infected them was a blood born antigen."

"I thought as much," he said. "Anything else?"

She nodded. "What should we do?"

"I'm designing a program upgrade to the training simulations. With such a short amount of time its the best I can do."

"Is this about that transference thing you were talking about?"

He smiled. "Yes. After I made he upgrades, I can attempt to load your brother's consciousness into the computers using a Telecube."

"Safe?"

"Not at all. But it will hopefully break his connection to the queen. He should survive, this early in the transformation, when we kill her. But if not..."

"Then I'll always have a part of him left, here."

"Yes. If the body survives we'll reverse the process and put him back in it."

"He won't go willingly. You know Eddie. If he actually becomes one with the computer, able to access everything in the known universe, he'll never give that up."

Harborne sighed, sitting back in the chair. "You're right. One day, you'll be in charge here. I was hoping to put off this particular trade secret until then, but we don't have that luxury. When the others leave, meet me in the Crypt."

"Sir, I-"

"That's all," he said, setting the data pad down and picking up his pencil again.

* * *

_ "There's little we can do on that front right now."_

_ "I understand. Once your current situation has been resolved... Speaking of," the digital Merlin said. He waved his hand, an act which created a hologram in the center of the table. "One of my technicians has thought about your problem. While the body may not be saved, young Edward's mind may be salvaged."_

_ Harborne inspected the hologram closely. It was news footage from almost 6 years earlier. "**That** was an accident."_

_ "But it worked. Donna Noble was saved... In a way."_

_ "I don't even remember how it happened. I don't even know how I did it!"_

_ "Use the Telecube, like before," he suggested, throwing out another projection. "You can create a familiar environment in here. Link him into the systems. Make him a ghost of the machine. Once secure, he will be cut off from the hive mind. Safe from the fury you plan to rain down."_

_ Harborne studied the holograms. They were diagrams of the Telecube's inner workings. The base codes of the programming. "He'll be locked inside. I won't be able to bring him back out."_

_ "What was it the Doctor used to say?... Oh yes. Just try a little jiggery-pokery."_

* * *

**Authors' Notes:** So far, this is all that's written. No longer having regular access to a computer, especially the internet, makes it hard. From this point on, updates will be random at best. No matter how much time goes by though, this story will NOT be abandoned. It's too awesome for that._  
_


	12. CH32 thru CH34

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
CHAPTERS 32 - 34**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 32**

"So..." Jesse said walking with her hands folded behind her head, elbows out. The two men walked slightly ahead of her. "Anyone up for a pint before we call it a night?"

"I was really hoping to get a good night's sleep," Quin said, pulling back on the dog's leash some to keep her out of a puddle. "Besides, Rose needs a bath before I let her sleep on my furniture again."

"Come on," Jesse said, coming forward and draping an arm across each man's shoulders. She dangled between them, smiling as she looked from Quin to Jack and back again. "One drink. Promise I'll behave."

"You can do what you want," Quin said with a small grunt as Rose pulled her leash hard, nearly yanking it right out of his hand. "The dog has spoken," he said with a laugh. "You two go on without me."

Jack smirked as Jesse linked arms with him. "Not worried we'll get into trouble without the nanny?"

"I'm not the nanny," Quincy grumbled, breaking away from them with the dog. "That was Matilda's job!"

They laughed together until Quin was out of sight. Jesse sighed as they walked, and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Gods I haven't had this much excitement in a long time. Sure, I'm usually cutting my way through a jungle or hiking across a desert, but that's boring after a while."

"Let me get this straight," Jack said. "I read up that you guys have branches in Russia and Australia. But-"

"We're global. Moscow's the biggest branch. We've got the base, but most of us get sent out to check on settlements, or retrieve tech that crashes to Earth. We bring the stuff back and it gets shipped to Martha in Glasgow, or here for storage."

They walked the streets of Cardiff a while more, talking. Just talking, and looking for a decent pub.

* * *

She walked along the usual route. The Crypt was silent as the grave, not that she expected anything more. With flashlight in hand she walked along the aisles; searching for her Commander. The archives were vast, buried deep beneath the earth at the lowest point in the facility. Easy to get lost.

"Over here," he called from the end of an aisle. He was leaning tiredly against the wall, and was holding a small device in his hands.

When Mattie looked up to see him fiddling with it, she thought to herself how tired he looked. How drawn and old he seemed. The device he held was a slender thing. No more than six, maybe seven inches long. The body of it, she noticed as she got closer and shined the light on him more, was silver with a black point at one end. When she was a few feet away, he stuffed it in his pocket, pulling his shirt down to cover the bit sticking out.

"You want me to see something, yeah?"

He nodded, the traces of his weariness falling from him like a snake shedding its skin. "What you are about to see is known only to four people on this planet. You are to tell no one."

"Of course."

"No. You don't understand," he said. "If you tell **anyone** except your chosen successor, you will be killed. No questions asked. You run, and you will be hunted down like an animal. And this room will be locked down forever. Anything inside destroyed. It is one of the most vital and most dangerous artifacts we have." He waited, searching her for any sign of hesitation. When he saw none, he pushed off the wall and faced it.

Without a word he placed his hand on the cold stone. An outline of a door appeared in red before the door revealed itself. Solid steel. A keypad next to Harborne's hand pushed outward from it. He punched in a code, and then lowered his hand. "Place your palm here," he said.

She did. Instantly she felt a prick in her skin, then a sudden heat flooded through her fingers. When she pulled her hand back, she stared at it. A strange cipher appeared there, similar to the commander's scribbling. Ancient High Gallifreyan, he had called it.

The symbols faded. She looked at her leader questioningly. "You've been encoded," he said. "It took a tissue sample, analyzed it, and created a log-in. Only the combination of your DNA and that specific passcode will get you in here. You need only touch the door."

"So what's in there?"

"Why not go look?"

Glancing at her hand again, she tentatively touched it to the door. It ground open, sliding into the floor. She swept her flashlight over the open passageway, finding stairs that led down into the darkness. Harborne stepped down. She followed him, very aware of the narrowness of the path. As they descended, she heard the door as it closed itself behind them. At the bottom they came out onto a landing. Harborne reached out his hand, opening a second door.

Stepping into the room, he spoke. "Lights up."

Mattie watched the room spring to life before the lights settled down to a gentle glow.

* * *

Jack had watched the night go from fine to worse in the matter of an hour. Jesse had insisted on one drink. Then another. And the more the woman drank, the more lewd she became. He'd been forced to drag her outside before she could finish a full body strip tease for the men at the bar. It wasn't her fault entirely, Jack reasoned.

Sardosians were notorious for getting rambunctious when filled with alcohol. They couldn't help but surrender to the energies vibrating around them. Not that he minded when they lost control. Some of his fondest memories from his days as a Time Agent involved wild Sardosi and many hypervodkas. But at the moment Jack was more concerned that the poor woman didn't fall and break her neck before he could get her to lie down.

Now she stumbled across the lobby of Jack's hotel, wrapped in his coat because she'd lost her top somewhere in the crowd. The receptionists gave him a disgusted look as they eyed both him and the drunken girl suspiciously cross the lobby to the elevator.

He'd had to hold her up with one arm as they rode up to his floor. His other arm wrapped around her front to keep his coat closed. Each time the doors opened she'd tried her best to flash her goods to anyone who wanted to bother looking.

"You... you smell funny," she said, giggling. "I like it." Then, she licked him. "And you taste like bacon. I like bacon. And bourbon."

"You've had enough..."

"Bacon shots!" Jesse shouted in excitement when the doors finally opened on Jack's floor. He had to drag her with him, trying to ignore her crazy drunken ramblings as he searched his pockets for his room key.

"Liquid bacon! And bourbon! I call it... I said I call it... You smell funny."

Jack put his arm around her again from behind. "In you go," he said, pushing her in ahead of him.

* * *

"What is this?"

Harborne stood behind a rather comfortable looking chair in the center of the room. There was a box sitting on top of a stone slab. He had his device out again, and his wrist strap open. He used the device on the box, while checking his wrist board computer for readings.

"This is a Telecube," he said. "It's what I'm going to use to save your brother's life... hopefully."

"You don't sound too sure of that," Mattie said, stepping closer to get a better look.

He nodded. "The last time I performed something like this, it was an accident. And with a completely different set of equipment." The device in his hand made a sort of screeching noise, the end of it lighting up in blue as he used it. He checked his strap again. Mattie climbed into the chair, having little else to do but stand about and watch him fiddle with his toys.

"So what's it used for? I mean, why is this cube thing so super top secret?"

"Sometimes we need to call a sort of... executive council. The other branches are too far apart for the directors to just pop in for a glass of tea and the local gossip. So we use these. It was created by a very grateful alien scientist Torchwood encountered in its hayday. But the technological understanding required to use them was beyond the comprehension of those in the early 20th century."

"So it was stashed."

She didn't see him nod. "Yeah. Lost in the archives and forgotten until a few years back. Martha and I found them and tested them out. Someone from Moscow got their hands on one and used it to design a virtual interface. We sit down, jack in, and can interact with one another in there."

"I can see why it's so dangerous. If a hostile got their hands on one of these they could spy on any one of us."

"Exactly," he said as he continued to work, now installing his upgrades. "But they are never to be used lightly. Only in the most severe of circumstances. When you're connected, your mind is inside, but your body is left vulnerable. None of us have immersed ourselves completely."

Mattie was staring at her hand again as she listened to him talk. Though she saw nothing of her encoded information, she could still trace the design on her palm. "Not until now," she said. "You're sending Eddie in deeper than anyone else has ever been."

"Yes..." he said slowly."So deep I may not be able to get him out."

"I know." He voice was soft. "But we'll get him back. Even if I lose him for just a little while, I'll get him back."

* * *

She threw herself at him, sniffing him like an animal. For her small build, he was quite surprised to find she was far stronger than he'd anticipated. Pinning Jack to the sofa, Jesse growled at him. "Bacon..."

"Under different circumstances..." he said, trying to push her off. His second attempt succeeded in freeing his torso at least. "I might actually enjoy this."

Jesse was pushed again, landing with a thud on the floor. She was stunned, but not for long as she grabbed his legs in a vice grip. He could feel her nails start to rip through the fabric as she dug them into his skin with a primal snarl.

"You're not yourself," Jack said as he grabbed her arms, pulling them off him. She scratched his hand in frustration as he managed to get away from her. He put the sofa between them quickly.

That did not deter the randy Sardosi for long. She was climbing up and over it, lunging for him. Jack ducked out of the way, letting the crazed woman sail overhead and into a bookshelf. If this was what she was like drunk, he didn't want to imagine the horrors of her when she was stone cold sober. He was afraid she'd hurt herself. But this worry was short-lived as she climbed to her feet. Staggering some before she found her sure footing.

She stared at him as if a woman possessed before snarling and trying for him again. He caught her by the arm, using her own momentum against her by swinging around to throw her over the back of the sofa. She bounced off it, rolling to the floor and landing on her stomach. Jack was quick to hop over and pin her down to the floor with his knees against the small of her back. She thrashed beneath him, trying to throw him off. She roared angrily as she kicked her leg up, trying to knock him off her. He grabbed a fistful of hair, snapping her head back. Jesse cried out in sudden pain.

Reaching down with his free hand, he gripped her tight at the bottom of her neck, fingers searching for a specific spot. When he found it, he gave her a squeeze.

Her body went limp. He let go of her hair, but waited a solid seven minutes before letting up on her back.

"Sorry, cowgirl," he said, hoisting her up onto the couch. Her chest rose gently as she breathed. He looked away, scanning the floor for his coat. When he found it, he laid it over her, doing his best to cover her up. "Maybe if things were different..."

When Jack went back to the bedroom, he was sure to lock the door, and shoved the dresser in front of it.

It was times like these when drunken, sex crazed alien women attacked him that Jack cursed his ever meeting the Doctor.

If not for him, he would never have become a better man...

* * *

Quin lay awake in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Rose lay curled up at the foot of the bed, sleeping peacefully. From time to time, he heard her growl. Felt her shift on top of the blankets before settling down again. He wondered, sometimes, did dogs dream? If so, she must have been having a nice one.

Once again, sleep eluded him. He felt tired right down to his bones. His body was relaxed. His mind drifting along that thin line between night and day. Straddling the fence as he gave up trying to will it over to one side. So, instead, he let his thoughts wander.

He was worried for his colleague, though he gave the kid a hard time. His thoughts went from Eddie to his sister. Briefly he tried to imagine what was going on inside her head. How hard she was really taking her brother's condition. This too drifted away from him as he rolled onto his side. He stared across the empty side of the bed. It was cold, lying there alone. He'd grown so accustomed to someone else there beside him. It had been that way for ten years now. But for the last five of them, he found himself more and more alone. Torchwood took priority in all their lives. James' more so than anyone.

Quin sighed, closing his eyes as he tried once again to get to sleep.

When it finally came, he dreamed of space ports and star ships. Drifting through deep space with nothing more than the clothes on his back, the air in his lungs, and the anticipation of the next great adventure.

And it was dreams of travelling the great dark expanses between the stars with Jack Harkness that made the man smile in his sleep.

* * *

"Quin would kill me if he knew what I was about to do," Harborne said.

"I'd kill you myself if I wasn't part of it," Mattie said as she checked the straps on the bed.

Each of them had a pouch full of tranquilizer darts on their hips. Loaded guns holstered on the other. She didn't like it but after having seen the video of her brother when he'd been woken both times, she knew it was a necessary precaution. "Just be careful with him."

Harborne nodded, making sure the IV pole was secured to the bed. "Unlock the door," he said. She went to the panel and opened it. Harborne began to push. "Help me out," he said.

Mattie took position by Eddie's feet, guiding the bed out the door. When they were in the hall, Harborne stopped to close the door. "We'll have to take it easy on all the stairs. We'll go in head first so I can take the brunt of the weight."

"Understood."

Carefully the pair made their way through the vault level to the freight elevator. It was the only one big enough to accommodate their passenger in his current state. Their silence was broken only when they reached stairs, and by the occasional moan of the man in the bed. After the first time, Harborne had offered to let her go down to the room. He could manage on his own if it was too much for her. She'd only hardened herself and soldiered on.

When they were at last down on the landing, Mattie touched the inner door. I came open for her. "Lights up," she said, just as the commander had. She was blinded briefly before the lights settled down.

"Help me get him in the chair," she said, going for the straps at his feet.

"Hold off," Harborne said. "It's better if we left him like this. No chance of knocking anything loose or exacerbating things."

She nodded, waiting for him to get the headpiece. He'd shown her how to put it on, and that is what she did to her brother now. Gently she brushed his hair with her fingertips. He'd never been the most hygienic man, but even Eddie would be appalled by how greasy his hair had become. A soft smile crept onto her face. After he woke up, she'd have to scold him right and proper for it.

"Usually it's on automatic. But since I had to override the safety protocols, it's going to take a few moments."

She only nodded, moving to stand by Eddie's side. She put her hands on his arm, hoping that somehow he knew she was there. Looking after him as she had always promised him. She watched his expression change from peaceful slumber to something dark. Some horrible contortion she knew would haunt her for a long time. Closing her eyes, she willed the image away. If things went wrong, if it didn't work, she didn't want to remember him this way. Not like the monster that was fighting against his very soul.

Mattie felt a hand on her shoulder. A soft squeeze. She let go her brother's arm and turned to her commander. She buried her face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her. Gently he rubbed her back between her shoulders as she began to sob. "It's going to be okay," he said. "Shhh... just let it out Matilda... I'll look after him. I promise you."

**CHAPTER 33**

She woke to the worst migraine she'd ever had in her life. And a big black stain on her memory. At first she thought she was back at Skypoint. But when she realized she was in only her panties, she began to panic. Pulling the coat to her chin, she tried to actively recall the previous night. After leaving the hub, she'd been with Quin and Jack. Quin went home. She stayed with Jack. They went to the Red Dragon in the restaurant district. She'd had a few pints...

Looking down at the coat covering her, she tentatively sniffed it. It was familiar... but with a distinct difference. Lickng the lapel, she grimmaced. Bacon. And bourbon... Jesse could only assume by the lack of her ex-husband's favorite cologne that this was most definately NOT his coat. It had to be...

"You're finally up."

She looked up, eyes wide before she covered her face in embarrassment. So that explained why she was so sore...

"Oh gods I'm so sorry," she stammered beneath the coat. "I never-"

"Don't panic," Jack said, setting down a hot cup on the coffee table for her. "You got drunk and went a little wild. Happens to the best of us."

"I didn't... We didn't... Oh gods."

"Hey. Calm down. I was a perfect gentleman," Jack said with a light laugh. "Can't say you were a perfect lady though."

She peered out from beneath his coat. "Uhm... Where's my-"

"Back at the bar. Like I said, you got a little wild."

She couldn't look at him. Beneath her synthetic skin, her cheeks burned. "I... I mean I'll..."

"Drink your coffee. Calm down. I left you some clothes in the bathroom. They won't fit, but at least you'll be covered."

She shifted on the couch, trying her best to keep covered as she reached for the cup. When she took a sip, she sighed. It was the same blend Quin kept stocked at his place. He must have ensured Torchwood's guest had the finest that could be found. "I'm so sorry."

"No harm done. If things were different..." He raised his eyebrows playfully. "Unfortunately, I've grown a conscience the last hundred odd years." He smiled kindly at her. "I won't tell anyone if you don't."

"Agreed." She sipped the coffee some more. After waiting for him to leave, she got up for a shower. That was when she noticed the rips in the fingertips of her hands. Considering what she must have tried to do the night before, she was amazed the Captain had been so civil about it. When her ex had encountered the bizarre mating habit he'd nearly killed her in self defense.

Peeling the skin off, she climbed into the shower and turned on the water. The entire time she washed she tried to think of how in the world she was ever going to look her best friend's future father in the eyes without feeling ashamed of herself.

* * *

Quin woke to find himself still alone, the other half of his bed undisturbed save for his own hogging of the blankets. Groaning, he rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Another day, another sleep deprived commander on the verge of a meltdown. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Looking around, he saw Rose under the window, chewing on one of his shoes.

"I was going to wear those today," he said. She continued her gnawing in response. "Sometimes I think you're out to get me."

He climbed out of bed, briefly pleased by the warmth of the stone floor beneath his feet. Smartest investment the contractors ever made. No one liked walking on cold floors first thing in the morning. Yawning, he set to his morning routine. Shower, shave, and even cooking himself a breakfast. The bacon was going to spoil soon if he didn't finish it off, so he fried it all up in one go. He'd take some to work. After the long night he was sure the other must have had, it would cheer him up some. Make him a little less volatile as they went over the daily reports.

Rose nudged him. He fed her a few strips. She licked his hand before he patted her head. "All is forgiven," he said. "You took a beating for me. Can't ask for anything braver than that." He swore she was smiling at him a she waited for him to fill her bowl with kibble.

Knowing he was already late for work, he decided to make it worth it. He sat down on the sofa to sip his coffee while catching up on the local news. He could have done that at the hub, but he couldn't really focus on it like he could here. He'd be swamped with work and only be able to pay attention to the strange and bizarre pieces.

When he turned on the TV, he saw something he hadn't expected and nearly choked on his drink.

With most of her body blurred out Jesse had made the morning news. The singing sensation was a top headline. And in the background behind her, looking rather distraught was the Captain.

"Bloody hell..." he said as he reached for the telephone.

Unknown to him... and to everyone else in the world for that matter save one poor soul in London who ran a haulage company, a woman had just broken an antique vase her mother-in-law had given her while shouting the exact same thing in front of the TV...

For a very similar reason.

* * *

The door ground open. She looked up and rubbed her eyes. "I thought you went home," Mattie said.

"We've got a problem."

She sat up in the chair. "What's happened? Is Eddie-"

He shook his head. "No. Seems the Captain and Jesse had some fun last night."

She laughed cynically. "We could all use a little of that right now."

"They were on the morning news."

"What!" Now she was wide awake. "WHAT! This is bad. This is very bad."

She jumped from the chair, stopping to check on her brother for the hundredth time.

"I've already suppressed the story, but there's no telling how many people saw it already. We need to act, and we need to do it now before they target Jesse again."

"Or the Captain," she said. "I'll get started on weaponry. I've faced them twice. I know what works."

"I'll draw up the battle plans. When the others get in, boardroom."

She nodded. He turned to go. "I'll... be up in a few."

"Take your time," he said, the door closing behind him.

Mattie held her brother's arm, looking down at his angry face. She knew he wasn't in there. Only the base instinct, the primal beast that wanted to consume him. But she couldn't help herself. Smoothing out his hair, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I'll come back for you. Before I storm the castle, I'll come back for you."

* * *

When Quin arrived, Mattie was hard at work in the armory. Jack was there, helping her customize the weapons she chose. Jesse came in soon after. The two were told to wait in the boardroom. Not much later, they were joined by the Captain and the Inspector.

"...Even if I knew how it worked, I wouldn't begin to understand how to retool the frequencies," Mattie said. "I mean, that's one of Eddie's pet projects. It's not even finished."

"I can help with that. Been on the business end of those more than once. Finish it up in a few hours. Three tops."

"Good," she said, scrolling down the screen on her PRM. "If we can attune it to the same wavelengths of the natural rift energy, we could use that to scatter the fire to more than one target."

Jack shook his head as Quin set a cup in front of him, then Mattie. "Thanks," he said, then deled back into the conversation. "Too many variables and not enough time to work it out. We'd have to program it to kill shot only the Morloki. If we're even a fraction off you kill everyone else with them."

"Good point," she said.

Only Quin noticed when Harborne joined them, a datapad in hand. Discretely, he went to his side, speaking quietly. "You're exhausted."

"No rest for the wicked," he replied. "Besides, I'll get plenty of rest when I'm dead."

"Might be sooner than you think, sir."

He nodded, and then cleared his throat. Three heads looked up as Quin took his place at the table. Harborne stepped up, letting his fatigue fall away from him as easily as before. It was time to work, and he couldn't afford to appear weakened. "We've run out of time. Lost the element of surprise. Last night, you two made a fool of yourselves. Now, we have to act. We have to attack."

"We're not ready," Jesse said.

His voice was cold. "Doesn't matter," he said, laying the pad down and tapping the table. The sensors in the surface connected to the datapad. "I've drawn up a plan based on the info Jack provided. I've cross checked every inch of the compound with the known schematics we have in the computers." A hologram appeared above the table, showing the map he'd designed based on his data. "We don't have much choice in entrances. The safest is at the crater itself. We'll attack during the day, limiting the Morloki's choice of escape. They'll have to burrow deeper." A line in yellow appeared, starting at the crater and moving downward. "We'll follow this path before breaking into teams of two. It's important that we get Jesse as close to the nest as possible. Quin, that's your job."

"Why not Mattie?" Quin asked. "She's a better shot. Has the best chance of defending our biggest asset." Harborne looked down the table at her.

He shook his head. "It has to be you. I want Mattie with Jack. If they get their hands on him, it's game over. Straight to jail, don't pass go."

"Don't collect your $200," Jack finished the analogy. Harborne nodded. "What about you? Same risks."

"Don't worry about me. I'll have Rose." Each line that broke off turned a different color. Then, they converged at a single spot. "This is the nest. Until we reach it, conserve your ammo. Fire only when you must. You'll be equipped with both standard issue and tech weapons. Mattie's gone through and found the ones that work best. Your jumpers will be deactivated. If you're hit, we can't risk infecting the outside any more than it already is. They'll be wired up for sound, playing Jesse's song on continuous loop. This should afford some protection, but there's no guarantee. We exposed one to her voice."

"Meaning they've all heard it," Jesse said. "I'll record a new one. One I didn't use in the tests. It should give us a little more time. But when we get to the nest..."

"You'll need something with a little more kick. Something completely original."

"On it," she said.

"Those things are crazy powerful," Mattie said. Jack nodded in agreement. "When we get to the nest, provided we all make it, how do you propose we get back out?"

Harborne chose his words very carefully. When they took out the Queen, he didn't know exactly what would happen. They could die on the spot. They could go wild and without a single voice to bind them together turn on one another. Or, one of the thralls may rise up and become the new Queen. It was a matter of chance. And he hoped his luck would hold. "We fight our way out if we must." He tapped the table. Another line began from the nest, snaking its way up to the surface. "This is the fastest route out. But if we can't take that way, well..."

"This is a suicide run," Jack said calmly. "You don't think we'll make it back."

Harborne didn't answer, so Quin did it for him. "If you two hadn't made asses of yourselves, we'd have more time to think this through. More time to plan out every detail. But we don't, and this is what we've got." His body language, Jack noted, was defensive, not condemning. The underlying tone in his voice gave Jack more than the words spoken could. "Unless you can come up with something better before dawn tomorrow, this is it."

The commander laid a hand on his arm, and Quin looked at him. A subtle shake of his head, and Quin backed down. "It's flawed, I know. Our master strategist is locked up, and I'm a poor replacement for him. But we have to do it. If we fail," he said solemnly. "Cardiff will fall. An army o these things will sweep across the empire. Mankind will be snuffed out, and Earth will become a world of bones and blood and death."

Jesse couldn't help but smile at the absurdity. "No pressure. Really," she said.

"Just a typical day at Torchwood," Mattie said, matching her smile as best she could.

Harborne looked around the table. He had never been prouder of his team, especially the humans, than he was in this moment. They fell back to the same routine so easily. Knowing they march to their doom, they still try to sound optimistic even if they didn't feel it. Jack stared at him, watching him as he continued to outline the attack plan he'd devised. Looking at the hologram, Jack couldn't argue the logic.

The younger man had thought everything out. Had run simulations for every possible outcome, yet he still looked grim. "If you have something you need to do," he said, and then looked at Mattie. "People you need to see... You have until dawn tomorrow. Dismissed."

He stood still as Jesse and Mattie filed out. Quin put a hand on Harborne's arm, talking softly. The commander nodded. Jack watched while the human's hand fell slowly away from the sleeve as he left him.

"You two..."

"You're still here?" Harborne said. "You can use the datapad if you like. Try to come up with an alternate plan."

"I'll do that." But he couldn't leave it alone. He tried again. "Everyone here's got someone," he said.

"Don't."

"You know it won't work."

"I'm not you."

"I never said you were. But we're a lot alike."

"Don't give advice on things you don't understand."

Jack clucked his tongue. He did understand. More than anyone the young man would ever meet. "Just remember that when you're standing over his bones." He left him then, seeking out Mattie to help with the remains of the weapons customization. When the coast was clear, Quin came back in.

Harborne glanced briefly over his shoulder. "I thought you'd gone to tie up loose ends."

"He has good intentions."

"He doesn't know anything," he said. "I'd like to keep it that way."

Quin nodded, stepping up to the table. "You're going to go through with it then?"

"The manipulator must be destroyed." He tapped the table, bringing up a hidden node in the map. "I'll do it myself. The resulting explosion will collapse the tunnels. Burry these things beneath the earth forever."

"Trapping Jack on Earth and undoing your own timeline in the process. Undoing mine."

"I'm sorry," he said, looking up. "I'm so-"

"We'll find another way. I'm scouring the archives, trying to find something to set things right. I may have found a lead, but it's just whispers. London, old London, was experimenting with something called a Time Ring. There's not much information left, but if I can find it..."

"Then there's still hope. If we get back, I want all your attention on it."

"**When** we get back, James."

**CHAPTER 34**

After she and Jack had sorted the weapons she had returned to the room. That room beneath the Crypt that now housed her brother.

"If you want to get to London, you'll need to leave soon."

"I'm not going to London," she said without looking up from him. "There's nothing left for me there."

"Sure there is. Your mom, your dad."

"We had a fight," she said, stroking his arm. "Eds is all I have left now. And I can't even keep him safe."

He came into the room, a crudely made headband in his hands. "If you're going to spend all your time down here, you might as well talk to him."

He guided her to the chair. Made her comfortable. "You won't get the full benefits package, but it'll keep you tethered. You've only got ten minutes before you get sucked in. If you're not out by then, I'll drag you out. So make it count."

Harborne set the band on her head and hooked it up. "You'll feel a slight shock. Sorry, haven't had time to-"

"Just do it," she said, closing her eyes. She drew a deep breath.

"When you're ready to leave, just go for a door. Any door. Go through it, and you'll leave the simulation. And most of all... don't scare him." He turned to the cube, and activated the second headband.

Mattie gasped, opening her eyes. She'd expected to see the room. See Eddie on the bed. But she wasn't there. She was in the hub. In the elevator. The doors opened, and she stepped out. It was the main offices laid out before her. Computers hummed. The only other sound was her brother's voice as he tried to call out to his friends.

She glanced at her watch, and saw instead of the time, a countdown. Nine minutes and counting. She didn't have long. "Having a bit of trouble?"

Eddie looked up from his computers, eyes wide. He jumped from his seat and ran to her, wrapping his arms around. "Where've you been? I've been trying to call, but all I get is-"

"Static. Same here," she said, willing her emotions to hold back. Don't scare him, Harborne had told her. "But it's alright. The network's down."

"No," he said, pulling back. He held her at arm's length. "No. There's something else. I know it. I've tried everything. I can't even order a pizza. I tried to step out for a bit, but I keep ending up somewhere else. When I went up to the warehouse, the elevator opened up on the apartment. Every door, every hallway. I can't get where I'm going, and I can't bring anything to me. It's almost as if-"

"You're inside a computer," she said suddenly. "It was the only way. The Morloki-"

"What?"

"Listen to me Eds. For once in your life, just listen. I don't have much time. You were infected, remember."

"...Yeah..."

"Quin patched you up best he could, but it was too late. By then the parasite had already done something. It did something to your blood, and you started to change. It somehow linked you to the rest of the monsters. We had to..."

"So you let them lock me up like some... some-"

"Yes! It was the only way to keep you safe."

"You mean to keep me from killing anyone," he snapped angrily, storming back to his computers.

"It's... well... yes. It is like that. But listen to me. You're safe now. Mostly. The Commander found a way to separate you out, keep you protected while we do what we have to do."

"I can hear her, some," he said. "Lilith singing. Different from that other one... I liked her's better. It's... softer now. Fading."

"That'll be the computers then. Doing their job," Mattie said.

"If this is a computer, what are you doing here?"

"I came... I came to say goodbye."

"Then go."

"Eds, you thick skulled yellow tailed..." Mattie couldn't even muster up a proper insult. "Those things. Those things that took you from me, we're going in. We're going to wipe them all out." She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around. He felt so real. He smelled so lifelike. She could even feel him breathing. And it was torture. "And I may no make it back."

He turned his head some, and she saw his face in profile. "Eds, you know I love you, right?"

"Don't get all mushy. It doesn't look good on you."

"I mean it. No matter what happens. If I die tomorrow, I want you to know I'm never going to give up on you. I'll keep fighting. For you."

* * *

"Now THIS is a gun," Jack said, holding up the modified weapon. It was large. And quite heavy. Working it over in his hands, he remembered the last time he'd held something like it. The Daleks had stolen the Earth. He'd teleported into London and met up with the Doctor and Rose. The old team, back together again. Those were good times.

But the young man walking towards him was a stark reminder that those times were gone. Now he held this weapon for a different reason.

Quin held out the jumper. "Teleport's disabled. But I've fitted each one with a resonance amplifier. Jesse's recorded five variations. When they get wise to one, just say _reload_ and the next will play. Run out of songs, and... Well... improvise."

"Thanks," he said. "When this is over, you and me, we're going to have a talk."

"Don't tell me you've developed a sense of paternal instinct now. Way too early for that, don't you think?"

"That's not what I meant."

Quin nodded. "You'll get your answers in time."

"I don't think I can wait that long."

He smirked. "You don't have much of a choice. Did you look up the files I suggested?"

"Not yet."

"Might want to while you can."

* * *

She opened her eyes.

"Thought I'd lost you there for a minute," he said. "Was about to pull you out."

She gripped the chair to keep steady as she got to her feet. "So did I."

"How was he?"

"Confused. Angry. He didn't take it well."

"Did you..."

"Yes. He deserves to know what you did, and why. I did this to him. I let him..."

"Don't blame yourself."

She shook her head. "It's my drive," she said. "It's my rage. And I'm saving it for Lilith."

"Her name?"

She nodded. "I want to see the whites of her eyes when I slay that bitch."

"Don't get yourself killed in the process. I can't wait around to see if Gwen has another baby. 18 years is a long time to wait for your replacement."

"Don't be absurd. I'm one of a kind."

* * *

Hours passed. The day wore on. Preparations were made. Various accounts settled. Harborne was standing in the warehouse, looking down over the factory floor. Quin found him there, and leaned against the railing with his arms folded across his chest. "Everyone's got the modified jumpers. Briefed on their parts of the mission."

He only nodded.

"You need to sleep. Relax at least. If you're not at your best..."

"What if we fail, Quin?"

"Don't think like that?"

"I have to."

"No, you don't."

He looked at him, eyes rimmed red in sleep deprivation. "If I don't, who will? There's no one else. We're it. Martha's extra hands are in Utah. Moscow's too far away. Their nearest agent is rifling through Mattie's locker trying to find something to wear."

"IF we fail, the Doctor will come."

"No he won't. His current self... he'd rather watch this world burn than help us." He rubbed at his eyes with a groan. "Sometimes, I wish I couldn't see it. Every possibility, every twist and turn and consequence. Things that are, aren't, and should never ever be. Every waking moment of it is torture."

"Then you never should have opened the locket. I'd warned you it may awaken more of that side in you." He sighed. "You never listen to me."

"I never should have opened that damn fob watch..."

Quin shrugged. "It is what it is. You can't change who you are no matter how many high security computer files you let Jack get into."

A forced laugh. "You know about that then."

"I know everything," Quin replied. "Plus, he left it on he screen. It's a lucky thing I know all of your passwords. Otherwise you may have done serious damage letting him know too much."

Harborne stood up straight. Quin could hear his bones pop as he stretched. "As far as last days on Earth go, I thought his one would have been a little more cheerful."

"There's the commander we all know and love."

A shrug. A yawn.

"Now get home and to bed before I have to kill you."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a guarantee."

Giving a small nod, Harborne left him.

"Straight home!" Quin shouted after him. "I've got a tracking device planted on you, so I'll know if you don't!"

* * *

"Where's James?" she asked, buckling her borrowed shoes.

"I sent him home," Quin said. "A man can't run on tea and coffee alone."

Jesse nodded, rising to her full height. "How do I look?"

"You look..." he said. "You look great."

"I was hoping for drop dead gorgeous. But from you, I guess that's good enough." She sighed, raking a hand through her hair. "Well, I'm off."

"Where to? I might join you later."

"I think there's someone else who needs you more, Quincy."

He shrugged. "Later."

"From the way he was talking, there won't be a later."

"What do you think?" he asked, walking with her as she started to go.

She sighed again. "Honestly, I don't know if I'm strong enough. I don't know how the five of us can stop an army. I was bred to fear these things." She pressed the button for the lift. "What if I succumb to that fear?"

"You won't."

Jesse scoffed. "Easy for you to say. I can see it in your face you're scared. I can smell it all over you. Feel it in waves."

"I'm that transparent?"

"No. I just have the benefit of better senses than you little humans... Your secret's safe with me. But if you're going to do something... you'd better do it soon." She stepped inside. "Otherwise, when we're in the belly of the beast you might regret it the rest of your life."

He made to join her, but she hit the door close button on him. Quincy was left in the corridor to ponder her words. He pulled his watch from his pocket and looked at it. His thumb brushing over the tarnished silver casing before flipping it open. With a sigh, he snapped it closed and turned around on his heel. His heart raced at the very thought. But could he do it? After he'd tried so hard to resist? Knowing what he knew now, and knowing the damage to the timeline one careless act could cause...

* * *

Jesse stood with her back to the wind. Her eyes cast out over the water. It was hard to believe that the rubble in the distance had once been a shining monument to a new century, a new millennium. She remembered going there, once, as a child with her mother. Though she and her people were not of Earth, the site of the original Torchwood hub held a special significance for them. The place where they came through the rift, to their salvation.

And now, she was going back there. Going to put an end to the nightmare that drove her people so far from their home.

She shivered, hugging herself to keep warm. A large coat was draped over her before Captain Jack leaned against the railing beside her. She inhaled his scent deeply, smiling to herself. With the exception of last night's incident, it was a comforting and welcome scent from her childhood. "Thank you."

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said.

She unfolded her arms long enough to wrap the coat tighter around herself. "I didn't expect you either."

"Feeling a little nostalgic myself."

Jesse nodded in agreement. "Same." Pointing across the water, she spoke. "My people came to this world right over there, in he crater."

"Highest concentration of rift energy," he said. "It's why they built the hub there. The better to study it."

"One day, they're going to build a pyramid there."

"Is that so?"

"We passed backwards through time, riding the rift in the living machine. That spot is a sacred place. I'm scared death, but looking at it like this... It brings me peace. Remembering my salvation."

They stood together in companionable silence. After a while, she leaned in closer, resting her head against his chest. Jack put an arm around her. To those passing by they looked like just an ordinary couple taking in the sights. "Jack?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"If we survive, you still owe me a dinner."

"Of course."

"A really posh place too. And you have to wear a suit and tie."

"Now you're getting difficult."

She listened to his heartbeat and closed her eyes. Basking in the vibrations the ancient Captain unknowingly gave off, she felt calm. She felt that small spark in the pits of her soul light up. Just a tiny little flame.

It was called Hope.

* * *

Rose nudged his hand with her cold nose. She'd tried a few times since he collapsed on the couch but received little more than a swat in the face and a groan for her trouble.

She'd been about to settle back down on the floor beside him when she heard footsteps. Cocking her head to listen, she heard them stop. She turned and stepped to the end of the couch where she could see the door. Her muscles tensed as she prepared herself for trouble. Her master was alone, and mostly nonresponsive. He was vulnerable. She would protect him from whatever came through that front door.

When it opened she barked loudly, keeping her ground until she could get a full view of the intruder. When she saw his face, she settled down and went to him. She nudged Quin's hand with a whine. After locking the door, he looked down at her. Then he knelt down and scratched behind her ears. Rose wagged her tail quickly, happy that the other man was home. Now, she thought, the both of them could look over her master.

She licked his face. He wiped at the spot when she turned to trot back to her place beside the couch. When he was upright again, he went to the kitchen to fill her bowls, and a cup for himself.

Quietly he passed through the apartment, stopping long enough to check on Harborne before slipping into his home office.

* * *

Mattie stood silently before the hodgepodge of screens. A slice of pizza in one hand, the other she used to type. Footage from the major hotspots across the city played out in real time before her. The city was quiet. Too quiet. The waiting was the hard part.

She wondered then how many times her mother had done this exact same thing. What did she do before facing down the big ugly? In all the stories her father told her as a girl, he never said. It was always action. Fighting and running and solving the puzzles. Stopping the bad guys and saving the day with her friends by her side. Glancing down, she saw a small photograph. It was taped to the bottom of a monitor. Her brother's smiling face. Her father with his arm around his wife's waist. And herself, looking smart in her uniform.

She remembered when that was taken. She'd just finished her training. Uncle Andy took that picture. He'd kept trying to get the family to make funny faces at him.

She smiled as familiar warmth filled her chest. She couldn't give up. She couldn't give in. No matter if she never saw her mother and father again for the rest of her life, she would stand tall. Fighting to protect them as they slept peacefully in their beds. Doing her job meant they could keep on living.

Few people in history have the luxury of finding their calling. Knowing their one true purpose for existing. Secure in this knowledge, Matilda Williams was ready for war.

* * *

Jack had invited her back to his hotel. At first she refused, citing her behavior the night before. But he had insisted. And tempted her with the one thing she could never turn down. Food.

"What could be your last night of freedom, and you're spending it with me," she said, gnawing on a chicken wing. "I'll be honest, I didn't think it'd be like this."

Jack slid the container of ranch dip toward her. "What did you think it'd be like? Moaning and groaning?"

"Yes. Just not with me and food."

He raised a brow in question. "Don't see why not."

"Well judging from Quin's behavior earlier, I'd just assumed you and he would be... ah, what's that phrase James uses..." she said, dropping the bone on the growing pile in front of her while grabbing another chicken wing. "Ah!" she said, dipping it in the ranch. "Bumping uglies."

"Can't say it hasn't crossed my mind."

"You should have done it," she said, taking a bite of chicken. "I mean." She licked her lips. "Last I saw, he was still on the fence, but I thought I'd tipped him off on your side of it. Guess not."

"Who's to say he isn't on his way now?" Jack waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

Jesse shook her head. "Nope." She took another bite. "If he didn't come find you right away, he chickened out. I swear, that man is so uptight... All of his timey-wimey talk. Excuses is what they all are." She raised the half eaten wing into the air. "Who needs marriage anyway!" She used the food to point at Jack. "Not you, not me. And we get through life just fine thank you."

Jack took the wing from her hand and dropped it to his empty plate. "And I think that's enough for you. I'm cutting you off."

"I'll tell you when I've had enough," she said, grabbing it back. She finished it off and then proudly added the bone to the pile. "Besides, all its good for is cementing alliances. S'why me and James did it. My people wouldn't take me back. I had to do something. But those two, bleh. One person forever? That's just insane!"

"You mean the rest of their lives."

"No. I mean _**forever **_forever." Then, she clamped her hands tightly over her mouth, and took the opportunity to lick the grease from her palm.

Jack stared at her, going over what she'd said in his mind. That wasn't what he'd intended to pry out of her. He'd hoped to get more on just the commander.

"I've said too much," she said when she took her hands away. "You bastard! You tricked me!"

"What can I say? You're a glutton."

"I can't help it if my species has an insatiable appetite! That... that was absolutely rude! Exploiting me like this!"

"Weakest link," Jack said in his defense. "They control the computers. There's only so much information I can get from there."

She rose to her feet, then gasped in horror and pointed an accusing finger at him. "All these years! You weren't being nice, you were pumping me for information! Bribing me with food!"

Jack stood, pointing back at her in equal measure. "And you're accusing me of things I haven't even done yet!"

"...So I just gave you the idea..."

"Yeah."

"This is a sticky situation now, isn't it?"

Again he said, "Yeah."

"So what do we do about this?" She looked past him to the television turned computer. "Because I won't tell you anything more about my boys. Not a single word."

"I say you are."

"And I say I'm not!" she snapped. "But I'll be more than happy to tell you about anyone else." Jesse hoped he'd take the bait. Ask her about Mattie, or Eddie, or even Martha. Anyone else but James and Quin.

Jack smirked at her. "You really think you can pull that one on me? I traveled with the Doctor. Learned from the best there is sweetheart."

"We are at an impasse," she said. "I don't suppose the threat of a massive paradox would work on you?"

"I'm a walking impossibility. I eat paradoxes for breakfast."

Nodding, she started to back down. Jack had won, or so he thought until she'd knocked him to the floor.

"What the-"

"Shut up," she said. "You know I can take you in a fight. And I haven't had a drop of beer tonight."

"Not this again..."

"Oh yes. This again," she said. "Because I've waited a very, _**very **_long time to do this." Growling, she pressed her face against his before he had a chance to answer. Jack grabbed her by the arms, shoving her away.

He scrambled to his feet, wiping his mouth and putting distance between them. "You're drunk. On food."

"Oh no. Tipsy maybe, but I hold nearly all the competitive eating titles on the planet. Some Asian still has the mustard belt," she said, quickly crossing the gap.

"Good for you. You can eat," he said, putting the table between them. "And I can run."

"Not fast enough," she said, jumping easily over the table.

* * *

Quin had been working quietly in his little private alcove. He needed to keep himself distracted. When he was distracted his mind had no chance to wander. It had no chance to speculate and reconsider his decision. The human knew Jesse was right. He was already regretting it. Every fiber in his being was longing, but he couldn't do that to the man asleep in the next room.

"Best left behind," he said to himself, shaking the thoughts out again.

"What behind?"

He looked up, his face cast in the glow of his computer. Harborne stood leaning against the doorframe. Still the worse for wear, but better than he had been at the warehouse. Quin mustered a grin. "Nothing. Just talking to myself."

"Been doing that a lot lately."

"We all have," he replied. "I'm almost done here."

The other man nodded slowly. "Sure... and you say I'm overworked. Come have a bite."

"Not hungry."

"Not a request soldier."

With a sigh Quin saved his work and turned off the screen. Rising, he followed the other down the hall, back towards the living area. Rose was seated on the couch watching the television. Strange enough the programme she was watching actually looked interesting. Something about wolves and nature and an alien species of insect. He made a note to watch it himself when he got the chance.

"What's on the menu?" he asked when they reached the kitchen. He left Harborne to it as he sat at the table.

"Macaroni and cheese."

"The only thing you can do without burning down the tower."

He laughed. "Hey, that was an accident."

"Isn't it always?"

He only nodded as he got out a pot and the supplies. Twenty-one minutes later a bowl was set in front of him. They ate in silence. Finally Harborne spoke, staring at a forkful of pasta. "I'm surprised you came home at all."

"No use staying at work."

"That's not what I meant."

Quin put his fork down in the bowl, reaching across the table. But Harborne put the bite in his mouth. He sighed and pulled his hand back. "Even if I knew the world wouldn't end if I did... I wouldn't."

"I'm sorry," the southerner said. "It's just... I know-"

"I can't lie. I came close to taking a right instead of a left from the lot. But what would that accomplish? Jeopardize an entire lifetime for a single night? Not worth the risk."

"Without the risks?"

"James..."

"Well?"

"No. That part of my life died in Roswell a long time ago. And I cursed his name every day after for what he's going to do. That is… until I went to Stoneybrooke." He reached across the table again, this time catching his hand. Quin took the fork and dropped it into the bowl.

Harborne looked up, his old and new eyes searching the other man's face for any hint of a lie. Any trace of truth. "We knew he'd come back. How can I be so sure this is how things are supposed to happen? That when he leaves... You don't go with him? How can I possibly just blindly follow that?"

"Because I turned left," he said. "And I came home." He let go of his hand and picked up his own fork. "Now eat and then back to bed. Big day tomorrow, saving the human race."

The other man nodded. "Not like we get to do that every day of our lives." He picked up his fork and finished his late night meal. "You know..." he said when he was through. "You never have told me how you faked the alien they found at the crash site."

Quin smiled devilishly. "I never said I was the only one that crashed in '47."


	13. CH35 and CH36

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
CHAPTERS 35 & 36**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 35**

She'd gotten a few winks in the on call room. Her rest was uneasy. She didn't like waiting. An hour before dawn, she started getting ready. Pulling out the gear for each operative. Loading the maps into each pair of sunglasses. Counting out the flash bombs. Loading the weapons.

Half an hour before dawn, she started the phone calls. Waking everyone up, pulling them from their homes. The call to war.

Rather than hang around the office until everyone showed up, she went down into the bowels of the base. The photograph from her brother's work station in her back pocket. Soon she found the secret door in the crypt, and she was with Eddie again. Holding his hand. Brushing his hair. The thought of never coming back, of leaving him hidden here forever, was never far from her mind.

She tapped her earpiece. "Mum," she said, then listened to the beeps as it dialed up the old phone. She waited for the rings. Part of her hoped the woman would answer. So she could hear her mother's voice just on last time. But she was relieved when the machine picked up.

_ "Hi. You've reached Gwen."_

_"And Rhys,"_ her father's voice chimed in.

_"Sorry we're out. Leave a message after the tone. If you're calling about the moped... Well, you know what to do."_

She smiled. The moped. They hadn't had it in years. Not since she was a teen. When she heard the tone, she spoke. "Hey mum, da, it's me. I... I just wanted to say I'm sorry. About the lies. About everything... There's something big. Bigger than anything we've crossed before. An..." she sighed, sniffling. She turned around to look at her brother. She had to make sure, just in case... "If I don't make it... If you don't hear from me in a few days. I want you to call that woman you know. Dr. Milligan. I can't explain, but I hope I get the chance. I'm sorry. And I love you."

She waited a moment longer before tapping her pod and cutting the signal.

Seconds later she heard the commander's voice in her ear.

_ "Let's go boys and girls. Kit up and march out."_

Mattie stole one last look. Turning away, she wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve. Time to toughen up and get a move on.

* * *

Harborne was kneeling down in front of his dog when Mattie came into the offices. He was fiddling with a buckle as he spoke to the canine. "Remember, Rosie. No biting." She nuzzled his shoulder as he finally fastened the buckle right. The Golden Retriever was wearing a sort of doggie armor. Her head fitted with a mask of some metallic looking material.

"That's new," Mattie remarked.

"Need to keep my doggie safe," he said, scratching under her chin, just below the edge of the mask. "Strongest thing it's been tested against is weevil teeth. Hopefully she'll be able to take a few hits more before it gives out."

She wagged her tail, then licked his face

"Are those... doggie gloves?"

He nodded, checking the coverings on Rose's paws. They were like gloves in that they went on in a similar fashion. The bottoms were lined with a rubber polymer that gave her much better grip on the ground. Her claws were encased in, sharpened to a fine point for maximum damage. They were lashed up to her body piece. A solid covering down her back, fastened beneath against her belly. It was made of layers of scales. A dark, shining substance made the scales.

"Can she move about in all that? Isn't it too heavy?"

"Oh, she can move. Won't find anyone faster, or more deadly. Highly durable, ultra light." He gave he dog one more pat on the head before rising to his full height. "Go check on Jess. She was having trouble with the laser rifle you left out for her."

Mattie nodded, leaving him to seek out the alien. She found her strapping on a holster to her hip. "Heard you were having a spot."

"Yeah. Semi-automatics are about all I'm trained on unless you've got a katana stashed somewhere. Lasers are a little too complex."

"Here, lemme show you," Mattie said, picking up the rifle.

Jack watched some distance away as the second in command helped the striped singer.

"No skin today then," Quin said from beside him as he fastened his protective vest.

Jack nodded, breaking his attention away from the women. "Said she wanted to face her death with pride."

"So basically you ripped it beyond repair," Quin said deadpan, tucking his smaller firearms in various pockets along with ammunition. When Jack didn't respond, he continued. "Can't say I don't blame you. She is quite pretty, if you like that sort of thing. If I didn't find her so infuriating..."

"...Yeah..."

"Quin! Where'd I leave my sonic?"

"Back pocket, left side, sir!"

"Oh! Right, thanks!"

Jack raised a brow. "Sonic?"

"Long story. Not a happy ending to that one," Quin replied with a sigh, checking the settings on his own rifle. "Not a lot of happy endings for most of them."

Jack could only nod as he rechecked his own armaments.

Harborne turned, picking up his coat. The long brown one. Bottomless pockets stuffed with enough gadgets for an army. He caught Jack's eyes from across the room.

Jack held them a moment, and thought for the briefest second that the other man had spoken to him. Right in his ear. Nothing important really. Not even a word he could understand. But Jack gave a slight nod, and the younger man nodded back before turning his attention back to his firearms.

When everyone was as armed and ready as they could ever be, Harborne tossed Quin the keys. "Daylight's burning," he said, leading the way to the lifts.

Everyone was crammed in the company van. Harborne rode front, with Mattie right behind his seat. The dog lay quietly beside her, head resting on her thigh. She stroked the dog's head through the fitted mask. Finally, she couldn't take the silence any longer. "I remember my first field assignment after Alita and Pattie fitted me with my leg braces," she said. "The king's brother Harry was throwing a ball for the queen's birthday. A real posh affair. Masquerade themed." She smiled fondly. "Quin and me, we dressed up and went undercover to locate a renegade Freyurian."

"I remember that night," Quin said from the front. "My first time in the field too. I was a mess."

Mattie nodded. "We had fun though, with all that running about. Knocking drinks out of people's hands so they wouldn't ingest the killer cocktails spiked with LSD and toxins."

"Until you splashed though a puddle outside and short circuited the braces."

Harborne laughed. "You chased that thing around London on one leg, hopping around in those heels. Found you by following all your inventive swearing."

"Saved the bloody queen though," she said. "Sure she had a sprained ankle and a couple of bruises..."

"We had to bleach the entire party," Quin said. "Headlines the next morning claiming the king was kidnapped and found naked on the roof of the palace."

Harborne nodded. "Alita sure was creative with her cover stories."

Jack just listened from the back of the van. These people, who only a short time before had been complete strangers to him, now readily accepted him. There were many factors, he was sure, that played into it. An unwanted relic, stuck on Earth without any real ties to lean on. A spare set of hands in a crisis. A museum piece that could be studied and researched. Or even, to the striped girl resting her head on his shoulder now, a warm embrace on a windy day and cold night.

When last he'd been on this world, he'd called it a tomb. Littered with death and decay. But in this small band of fresh faced soldiers he saw the same thing that had drawn him to Gwen Cooper. Compassion. Determination. Loyalty. Humility and courage. All very human qualities that he had once held dear, but had lost somewhere along the way.

While the Doctor, in his own way, had reminded Jack that life was worth living... These people, these kids, showed him what was so important about that lesson.

He shook his head and spoke quietly to himself. "That crafty old man," he said. "He knew this was next for me..."

"Who?" Jesse said. He'd forgotten about her. "About what?"

"No one important."

"You're lying."

"So what if I am?" he replied, wrapping an arm around her. He could actually hear her purr at him. "You scared?"

"Some... Just make sure you make it. I want that date."

"Hey now, I never said it was a date."

"It is now." She smiled, taking in his scent again and drawing strength from it.

"Smoke 'em if you got 'em," Harborne called from the front as the van stopped. "Because it's the end of the line."

Rose looked up at Mattie, right in the eyes. Any doubts the woman held about her commander's canine companion left her in that moment.

Jesse disentangled herself from Jack as the two men up front climbed out. The side door of the van slid open. Quin was standing there to help them out.

Rose hopped down and trotted to her master's side as he checked his wrist strap. "This is as close as we can get. We're on foot from here on."

Mattie cocked her rifle. "Just point the way."

Jesse stretched her arms before taking hold of her laser with both hands. "The air feels good on my skin," she said.

Harborne turned to his team. "Maps are loaded into your glasses. Keep them on at all times. Normal sensors won't pick up a thing, and night vision is limited, so switch to infrared only when you have to." He flipped the cover of the vortex manipulator closed with a jerk of his wrist. "When we divide, follow your designated route as best as possible. Keep radio contact unless otherwise directed."

"Yes sir," Mattie snapped, no longer in the nostalgic mood she had been in during the ride. Jack was able to pinpoint the exact second when she had put herself into combat mode. The light in her eyes, that light he'd seen in her mother all those years ago, was gone. Replaced with the need for revenge.

"One more thing," Harborne said, looking at each one of them before speaking again. "If anyone is hit, do not hesitate. I'd expect the same from any of you. They can't use you to breed if you're dead." Without another word, he took hold of his rifle, tipped with the business end of a Dalek attack arm. His stride was measured, but wide as he led the way into the crater site, his eyes peeled for the secret entrance Sapas had instructed the old woman to describe for him.

The opening was found near, Jack reckoned, what had been the tunnel from the tourist shack to the nerve centre. Mattie went into the darkness first. Followed closely by Quin. Jesse ducked under the cracked cement and cinderblock third. Right in the middle. "After you, Captain," Harborne said.

Jack's stomach had been in knots since stepping out of the van. He did his best to hide the trepidation, but knew the younger man could see right through him. Ducking in, he tapped the arm of his sunglasses. Night vision sprang to life, overlaid on the right lens with the map, as he followed the Sardosi. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Harborne and his dog bringing up the rear.

"A bit like a FPS," Jesse whispered.

"FP..." Jack said.

"First person shooter. Gamer slang," Quin said.

Harborne pricked up his ears like Rose at his side. "Eyes sharp. Keep focus."

"Aye aye boss man." That was Mattie from the point.

The team moved slowly through the narrow tunnel. Shifting themselves around the debris created when Jack had exploded years ago. At the end of the tunnel, they stopped. Mattie held up her hand, signaling trouble ahead. Quin fished a flash bomb from his pocket, ready to lob it out of the tunnel.

"Don't," Jack said quietly, moving to the front. He scanned the open room with his eyes, and then nodded. "Just there. The ceiling's caved in." He pointed to a pile of rubble. "Tall enough we can use it for cover and slip by around them."

"I'll keep watch. Jack, you first. Then Quin and Jesse. I'll bring up the rear."

They moved as quickly and quietly as possible behind the pile. Keeping close to the rubble, they edged around the room. Once on the other side, Jack stood watch as they passed into another corridor.

This one had a downward slope. Jack recognized it easily as the path to the shooting range. A vast, open area with little cover. And beyond it, the last stretch they would all take together before branching off. The deeper they went, the stronger the smell of decay became. Jack could feel the bones beneath his boots, mixed among the dirt and the rocks. How many innocent people, he wondered, had been dragged down here to die?

They came to a stop again. The path was mostly blocked by a cave in. Carefully each one of them squeezed through before continuing on their trek. The third time they stopped, they could hear the growls. Hear the beasts as they prowled beyond the open doorway that led to the shooting range.

Harborne pushed his way to the front. "How bad?"

"Too many to take head on," Mattie said. "Flashers are the best bet. Confuse them long enough to get past."

"Alright. If that doesn't work, we resort to the song. Quin, Jack, stick to Jesse. Matilda at point."

Mattie nodded. Quin handed her one of his flashers. "On three," she said, hitting the activation switch. "One. Two." She held onto it as long as she could before throwing it into the den. "Three! Go go go!" she shouted, darting out.

Quin, Jesse, and Jack were close on her heels. Harborne and Rose behind them. He ticked off the time in his head, then threw another flasher out. He timed it in such a way that when the first burned out, the second would start with little delay.

The beasts were wild around them. Screaming in their confusion, in their rage. Jack fired. Mattie let loose a spray of bullets, clearing the way as the small group ran. She dove for cover in the next corridor. The others were right behind her. Harborne stopped, covering the hole. They couldn't afford to have these things riding their backside so soon.

Firing pulses from his Dalek arm rifle with one arm, his other hand reached into one of his deep pockets. Quickly he found what he was looking for. A red ball. Just an innocent little red ball that hung on trees at the holidays. Lacking a detonator, he dropped it to the ground and ran. Then, as the Morloki clambered into the opening, he fired. Two tries and he hit the ball. It exploded inside the already weakened entry point causing it to collapse. A few had come through, escaping the falling stonework. He picked them off before running to catch up.

**CHAPTER 36**

They were running with Mattie at the head. From behind her, Jack and Quin were shooting into the darkness ahead, clearing the way. "Where's James?" Jesse asked over the gunfire. "We lost James!"

"Rose, directive two! Go!"

The dog barked at Quin's order, pivoting around on her claws and dashing back the way they had come. Jesse shouted suddenly, grasping at her head. "Oh gods! No! Not now!"

Jack was at her side, grabbing her arm. "Come on, we have to keep moving."

"I can't."

"You have to."

"I... she's in my head."

Quin and Mattie doubled back, guns pointed into the darkness. Jesse let go of her rifle, letting it hang on the strap over her shoulder. Both her hands were at her head now. The pain, the searing, throbbing pain was something she hadn't felt since she was a child.

"Pick her up and carry her if you have to," Mattie snapped.

Quin reached out and shook her, trying to snap her out of it. "Jesse, come on. We can't do this without you."

"I... I'm so scared. She knows. She knows everything." Her voice became more frantic, more panicked.

"We don't have time for this," Jack barked as he shoved Quin out of the way. He pulled Jesse's hands away from her head and made her look up at him. "You keep going kid. You take that fear and use it because if you don't we're all dead. You, me, and the entire world."

"Jack..." With a nod, she picked up her rifle again. "I'm good now."

"You're a liability," Mattie said.

"I told you," Jesse growled. "I'm good."

* * *

Harborne was stuck. They swarmed from nowhere. His back pressed against the stones and tile, he checked the power of his rifle. "Damn," he said. The juice needed by the Dalek arm was draining the battery core. He had seven, maybe eight shots left if he was careful. "Small arms it is," he said to himself, tossing another flasher out.

He'd have to save the rest. He couldn't let himself run out before he reached the others.

His hand fell to his coat pocket, searching for his pistols. He was so glad in this moment that he'd nicked the Doctor's coat from the TARDIS wardrobe. The bottomless pockets came in mighty handy. But not even his stash of weapons and gadgets could help him forever.

_ "Commander. Come in. We've reached the dividing point."_

He tapped his ear. "Good. Keep going."

_ "I'm coming back for you."_

It was Jack's voice in his ear the second time.

"No. There's too many behind you. I'll find another way." He broke the connection and checked his map. The way ahead was closed to him. But maybe... just maybe there was a second option. Taking a deep breath of the putrid air, he made his move. The rifle bounced on his hip as he charged forward through the darkness. Trigger happy and mowing down a path through the cannon fodder. There was a branch coming up on his right. The map showed it was a series of vaults and containment cells. It was a long shot, but he didn't have much of a choice. He'd blast through a wall if he had to.

He felt something grab the bottom of his coat. Harborne wheeled around, firing off a few shots between the eyes. The beast's claws ripped the fabric as it felt away. There were too many closing in on him. Getting too close for comfort.

"Load program," he said loud enough for the device strapped to his wrist to pick up his voice. "Opera One."

Jesse's voice, soothing and slow, echoed in the enclosed space. Soon the Morloki began to slow. They still chased after him but their movements were delayed. Confused and unsure.

Ducking into the side corridor, he heard a howl in the dark. It was unlike the monsters who gnashed their teeth at his scent. It was a familiar and welcome sound. "Rose!" he called. Another howl.

The beasts roared back. "ROSE!"

Soon, he was able to see the commotion as his companion ran up an exposed beam, using it as a ramp before launching herself into the air. Her claws slashing and hacking as she fought to reach her master. Tearing through the beasts, she was shortly at his side. Together they ran. Harborne plotted out a new course. Each new pocket of hungry monsters they came across was met with equal savagery as Rose cleared the way, protecting him the only way she knew how.

When the pair reached the vaults on his map, he looked around for a quick exit... only to discover the only option stood on the other side of bulletproof glass and frightened children.

"Son of a-"

* * *

"Quin, Jack, secure the perimeter."

Jesse stood in the center of the room. Her body doubled over as she gasped in air thick with rot and death. Mattie was at her side, ever ready to attack.

"We need... He'll make it..."

Jack stood at the opening from whence they came. "All clear this way. Something drew their attention."

"That'll be Rose," Quin said, standing with his back to the others, rifle pointed down the middle of the three available passages. "Clear this way, for the moment."

Mattie nodded, then reached down to pat Jesse on the back briefly. "We'll wait five minutes. After that, we must press on."

Jesse nodded, standing up straight. "If anything happens to him, I might just go mad."

"He'll be fine. Outlive us all, that one," Mattie replied.

* * *

Part of him knew it was useless. It was too late for them. He wasn't on a rescue mission... He was in the middle of a kamikaze run. The road behind was a wash with Morloki. The road ahead yet unknown. The danger outweighed his innate desire to help. To save them.

Any one could be infected already. If just one parasite survived...

Harborne glanced from the children to Rose. She would not look at him. He was sure she knew what he was about to do, and didn't like it. "Rose, watch the door," he ordered. With a low growl of disapproval she went and stood silently. Poised for a fight.

He let his rifle hang on his hip as he reloaded one of his handguns. He willed his hearts to slow, to calm down so his hand would keep steady. It was wrong, and even though he knew it had to be done... nothing could justify this act of cruelty. But the risk to those up on the surface was far too great. The needs of the many...

He pulled the sonic screwdriver from his back pocket. He pointed it at the bulletproof glass and hit the button with his thumb. The clear wall moved, swinging outward. He put the tool back in his pocket, raising his gun.

Those who could see cried out. Those who couldn't tried to hide themselves as he opened fire. Harborne tried to make each one a kill shot. He didn't want them to bleed out, to suffer a slow death... They were only children.

"Time will forgive me," he whispered as he pulled the trigger one final time, trying to convince himself it was true even as he trudged through their small corpses to the metal door on the other side.

The commander gave a sharp whistle. Rose returned to the site, her eyes conveying her utter disgust. She was careful, calculating in her movements as she came across... Ensuring none of her steel claws dragged across their dirty, fear frozen faces.

"I-"

She cut him off, barking angrily at him as he opened the door. On the other side he turned to close it back behind them, unable to avoid looking upon the unjustly slain.

They were only children...

* * *

"Commander," Mattie tried again. "Commander come in."

"We need to go."

"Just a few more minutes," Jesse pleaded. "Please. He'll make it. I know he will."

Quin took her roughly by the arm. "Nobody wants to believe that more than me. But he told us to keep to the plan. The longer we linger, the worse our chances."

"He's right," Jack said, not wanting to admit it.

"Jack, let's go."

He gave a nod, looking at Jesse one more time. "Don't die before we can max out my credit cards."

She smiled weakly at him, giving a subtle nod before following Quin into the tunnel on the left. When he could no longer see them, he turned to Mattie. "Stop wasting time. Daylight's burning."

"Lead the way, oh fearless leader."

"Ladies first," he quipped.

If her hands weren't full she would have slapped him across the face before marching into the unknown.

* * *

Without the advantage of numbers Quin was nervous. He didn't look it, but Jesse could feel it coming off him.

"How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." He stopped her from going forward. Pressing his back against the tunnel wall he inched to the edge of an opening. Mattie's voice buzzed in his ear, still trying to call up their Commander. He turned quickly, rifle pointed into the intersecting hall. "Clear," he said. Jesse moved past, following the route plotted for them.

"You never said."

"Because you know the answer."

Biting her lip, she pressed on at his side. "I never said I hated you, you know," she said. "Just jealous."

"Don't see why. We've both ended up in this dump."

"Extenuating circumstances," she said. "But really, I wish we'd gotten along. He really cares for you."

"Says the woman who tried to set me up with the Captain so she can have James all to herself again."

"Can't blame a girl for trying." He knew she was smiling when she spoke, but also knew it was brief as she stopped him. "Up ahead. A small pack."

"I see them," he confirmed. "Only one way to go," he said, reaching up to activate the jumper.

Jesse did the same before charging after him, their guns blazing.

* * *

Matilda was worried. So was Jack. "Haven't seen too many so far," he said. "There should be more. Why aren't there more?"

"I've got that feeling again."

"Sheep to the slaughter."

"I don't like being hunted."

He nodded his agreement to her sentiment. "How's the power on that thing?"

"The glass is half empty. Going to be useless soon."

"Conserve the power. You might need it. Switch to your Berettas."

"Not yet," Mattie said, holding her laser rifle against her shoulder. Her steps were measured. Her focus down its sight. The detective inspector was a bundle of nerves. Hands sweating trigger finger itching to slide back and fire. The man at her side, kept watch on their back while she kept eyes forward. "We're coming up on the down slope," she said. "The deeper we go, the worse it'll be."

They continued on in silence. Listening carefully for any sign of movement. Any sign of an ambush. Her back pressed against his, they moved as one. Each move Jack made was matched by Mattie as they fell into automatic sync. From time to time they would turn, switching places as easily as one would change positions in a dance.

As they came upon a split in their route, Jack heard a whistle. Sharp and quick. Then again.

"Could be the Commander, calling Rose to him."

Jack shook his head, giving her a slight nudge with his elbow as he started down the tunnel to the right.

"But the map says-"

"Trust me, Matilda. This is the way we need to go."

Unwilling to let him out of her sight, she couldn't just let him wander. Quick on her feet she followed, and they resumed their march. They had been walking a winding trail through the oldest reaches of the forgotten Hub when Mattie spoke. "It doesn't look like anyone's been in here. Ever."

"This section was blocked off during an earthquake. There's a train station somewhere. It was lost around the same time. I'd only seen it once myself."

"So... now we're lost."

Jack's tone was sarcastic. "Now, I didn't say that." He moved ahead of her as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

She picked up her pace to catch him. "Hey mister, don't get too far from me. You'll get yourself killed. Worse even."

"If I'm right, the tracks should be up ahead. It'll cut the distance in half. We can make up for the lost time spent waiting."

It sounded like a good plan. Checking their position against her map, Mattie couldn't argue with him and sound intelligent about it. "In a cavern big enough to accommodate a train, there's going to be a swarm. We'll be open on all sides."

"I know. But it's our best shot."

* * *

Harborne had managed to get back on his route. Somehow, he managed to stay one step ahead of the monsters... but was forced to circle around the sector where Sapas' messenger had told him the rift manipulator was stored. There was no time to back track. He would have to deal with it on the way out, if he ever got back out.

Rose stopped in her tracks, head tilted as if listening to something. He knelt beside her, stroking her head through her protective mask. "What is it old girl?" he whispered, scanning the darkness with his night vision.

She growled softly before darting off. Harborne chased after her. She was fast, faster than he'd ever seen her go. When he caught up with her, he stood at the end of the tunnel. Stretching out before them was a catwalk. He covered his nose and mouth against the stench rising up from below. He glanced downward, unable to see a thing. But the air felt moist against his skin. Cool even compared to the tunnels.

"This isn't on my map. It's not on any map..." he whispered. Rose nudged him with her snout before stepping out cautiously on the catwalk. Harborne followed, tapping his shades and switching to infrared. He could see now why the cavern was so cool...

Below him was a large pool. Around him a network of pipes. Most of them, he guessed, were rusted and leaking. Rose slowed, and he behind her as they crossed.

She stopped, growling at something in the dark. He turned his attention in the direction she faced and saw movement. A large cold patch. It was moving closer, and quickly.

"NO!" Before Harborne could stop her, Rose launched herself into an attack.

He went for his rifle, swinging it up to fire, but there wasn't a clean shot. If he dared pull the trigger, he'd hit her too.

The beast roared in pain and rage as it tried to grab at its assailant. His hands were shaking. Fear threatened to consume him as the beast at last caught the dog. It ripped her from its back, uncaring of the chunk her claws took out as she was cast aside. She yelped as her body slammed against one of the pipes. The only sound of her he heard after was the splash in the water below.

He pulled the trigger. The beast was hit with blue electric death. But it continued to lumber forward. He stepped back, firing again as he tried to retreat.

Behind him the tunnel was filled with the hungry growls of the Morloki. His hearts were beating out a samba as he searched for a way out. But there was nothing to be done but to keep shooting. Keep firing and hope to fight his way out unscathed.

"RELOAD!" he shouted, hoping the next of Jesse's recordings would at least buy him a little time.

* * *

"Almost there," Quin said when they stopped to rest. It had been slow going, but the pair had been able to sneak past most of the groupings they had found. Yet this knowledge did not end Jesse's unease.

"This isn't right," she said. "The Morloki... We should have been killed. They should have swarmed. This is abnormal."

"Stop complaining. We're alive, and lucky these things are too stupid to act on their own."

She sighed and wiped her brow with the back of her arm. "That's just it, Quin. They can't act alone unless out of pure instinct. Something, someone, is controlling them. Suppressing their instinct. And whatever it is... We're only alive because it wants us alive."

"It has to be the queen. There's no other explanation than sheer dumb luck." He looked at her then. "How are you holding up?"

"Not good. You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when your parents catch you doing something bad, and you panic. It's far worse than that."

"How worse? I need to know you're not going to curl up fetal on me."

"I can still hear her. Thousands of voices, singing as one. It's faint, but there. I keep thinking about bacon."

"Bacon? That's a new mental shield tactic."

"Oi! Jack smells like bacon..."

He nodded his understanding. "Whatever you need to keep you going," he said, then tapped his earpiece. "Mattie. Jack. Tell me you're still with us."

* * *

Mattie and Jack were trudging along the rails, slaying anything that came across their path. The most at a time were three, maybe four. Easily managed between the two of them. It was the frequency that was hitting them hard.

"Nearly out," Mattie said.

"How many clips?"

"One spare for the Berettas. Three bullets left in each, roughly. Rifle's nearly tapped. One, maybe two good shots left in it."

"Same. At this rate, we'll be out of ammunition by the time we reach the heart of the hive... Well, except for a squareness gun. Not much good in a fight."

"Takes too long to recharge," Mattie remarked, then, "How much further?"

"Service hatch coming up. Should take us straight into the lair... if I remember my geography."

"Hasn't been too bad so far," she said.

They kept walking forward until Jack stopped. He pointed upward. Mattie looked and saw a rusty ladder bolted to the side of the railway tunnel. It didn't matter that she thought it unsafe as she made to climb. But Jack pulled her back. "I'd better go first."

"No. There's something ugly on the other side. I have to shift it before you go in."

"I have a better chance than you do. It can only kill me. You, it'll slaughter."

She pulled her arm away. "I have my orders, Captain."

"Orders..." he muttered under his breath as he blocked her way."I'm going up first."

"You're not."

That was when he hit her. Right in the face with the butt of his rifle. Jack didn't like hitting women, not one bit. But in this instance he knew the hard headed woman wouldn't listen to any of his reasons.

She staggered back and quickly recovered. She climbed up after him, only to see the large metal hatch close back right above her. "You stupid alien!" she shouted angrily. "You can't do this to me!"

On the other side Jack stood on the hatch, giving the hinges a short blast with his laser to meld them in place. The small room was empty. It had been either a storage room or a utility closet... One he'd used many times before as a freelance man. "Sorry kid," he said. "But I can't have your death on my conscience, too. There's not enough room anymore."

He left the little room, knowing Mattie had enough ammunition to fight her way back out, or a least to a different path to the finish line. Especially since he'd slipped his spare clips into the pockets of her jacket when he'd pulled her from the ladder.

Eventually, the banging stopped as Mattie climbed back down the ladder. Quin's voice was in her ear.

_"Mattie. Jack. Tell me you're still with us."_

"Pompous self righteous prick locked me in the railway. I'm taking another road."


	14. CH37 and CH38

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
CHAPTERS 37 & 38**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 37**

Quin stood with his back pressed against the woman. "Reload!" he shouted as the effects of the latest track began to wear off.

"It's the last one!" Jesse shouted at him as she tossed one gun aside and pulled out another. "We can't hold on much longer!"

"We have to!" Quin snapped between shots. "We must take out as many as we can!"

"It's hopeless! We've failed!"

Quin knew it, too. But he didn't want to believe it. He couldn't lose hope that even if he didn't survive, Jack did. **Everything** counted on Jack's survival through this. The fact that he continued to breathe, continued to fire into the horde bearing down upon him was proof that there was still hope.

He grabbed the woman behind him and swung her to the front of him. He'd opened a space so they could move. Jesse went for the wall, holding her rifle like a club. It was all she had left. Quin stood in front of her, keeping himself between the Morloki and the Sardosi. He had to protect her. That was his assigned mission. That was his duty.

He raised his gun after reloading. The song of the jumpers no longer worked. It was just a useless sound among the hungry growls. A helpless plea from he prey, begging not to be eaten. The last magazine. Swallowing hard, he fired, pushing them back. Just when he thought he'd run out...

* * *

Mattie crouched in a service duct. One hand wrapped tight around her gun as the other worked her glasses. The laser rifle was lost in a skirmish to reach the small nook where she now hid. Her head was pounding, her chest hurt to breathe. But worst of all... she thought her left leg was starting to go numb.

"Useless..." she grumbled, wiping her forehead with the back of her arm. As hard as she tried, she couldn't find any other way to reach hive. She tapped her comm piece, trying to keep her voice calm. Trying to keep her voice from cracking. "Commander... Jack... Anyone..." she tried, but all she got in return was static.

Static. And silence.

"Is anyone there?"

Crouching in the dark, she remembered one of her father's old stories. Odd, that such a thing would come to mind now. Such fairy tales of monsters and aliens. Of soldiers stealing children in broad daylight...

Closing her eyes, Mattie sighed. Her hands shaking as she fought back her own fear. Steeling herself, she knew what she must do, if it came to be that this was her end. She would go out fighting. On her own terms.

Sliding her sweat slicked hand into the pocket of her jacket; she wrapped her hand around the bomb. Small, compact, and nuclear.

"I'm sorry Eds..." she whispered, her finger hovering over the safety release. One flick of her finger, one press of her thumb... and it would all be over. She would be in the epicenter... but take out the entire bay area. Take out the collective with one final solution.

_"Sorry for what?"_

Her eyes popped open. Her voice caught in her throat as she froze, staring at a map overlay as it changed. Blinking dots at the end of a new pulsating line. Blank portions of the blueprints filling in. One after another. His voice buzzed in her ear as clear as if he were standing beside her.

_ "I'm looking at four life signs. But someone's been separated."_

"Edward..."

_ "Go, now. I can't hold this channel open for long at a time. Follow the line and stick to it."_

Mattie pulled her hand from her pocket with not the destructive weapon but her last flasher. Her heart beating a mile a minute as static filled the line once more. Somehow, some way he had found his way to her from his computerized prison. And now he was showing her the way to help their friends.

She armed it. She rolled it out of her nook. And then she ran.

Her left leg from the middle of her thigh down lost sensation. But it kept moving. Kept her running.

She only hoped it would hold out long enough for her to exact her revenge.

* * *

A gasp that wasn't a gasp. The stench of rotted flesh filled his lungs as he took his first breath deeply through his nose. He felt dizzy. He felt hot and wet and sore. His eyes hurt as he opened them, trying to see past the blur. His mouth was held tightly shut by a length of wire just beneath it and tied at the top of his head. He could hear Mattie's voice in his ear, calling out to him. Trying to get a response.

He tried to move. But his arms were bound. His legs as well. It didn't stop him from trying. Looking around as his vision began to clear; he spotted from the corners of his eyes torches. Proper, flaming torches. Candles burning in every nook, every cranny of the chamber.

Then, he heard the song. Dark, foreboding. His body was hoisted to a chorus of grunts and growls. He was turned as the steel rack was lifted off the floor. His head was elevated, his body dangling with the rack.

He saw her, the woman who sang the songs of darkness and decay. Her pale blue skin accented by black stripes. Familiar to him on a field of violet. But this... this was a testament to the living death.

She rose, her icy lips parted and showing a mouth of green ivory as she continued weaving the melodies of her control. Tattered green and violet cloth trailed in her wake from upon her throne of skulls. Some of them were human... many of them he easily recognized as belonging to the weevils.

Across the gap she danced, her voice echoing eerily in the chamber. He shook his head and exercised the futility of breaking free. Try as he might, he could not block her out. He could not drive her song from his thoughts. Each time he tried to open his mouth, the wire broke skin. He could feel his flesh as it split, then healed again. Over and over as it cut deeper.

She was quick and light on her bare feet. Had he been free he would never had given this dark enchantress the chance to get close.

His skin crawled as she touched his cheek with the back of her hand and silenced her song for now.

"Foolish..." she said as she rose to her tip toes to lick at his chin."So young. So strong."

He glared as hard as he could at her.

She moved to his ear and whispered. "The children were clean." She laughed. A horrible, childish laugh as she licked her lips and stepped away, savoring the taste of his blood on them.

Harborne did not thrash. He did not struggle.

What this creature perceived as grief stricken defeat was contrary to what coursed through him now.

Normal men would feel remorse. Normal men would mourn the lives of those he had taken.

But not him.

What bubbled inside, what coursed through his veins from his twin hearts was a silent storm of fire like the heart of a sun... and the rage of a wrathful Time Lord.

Before he saw the stars again, Harborne would see the last signs of life fade from Lilith's eyes.

* * *

Jack burst forth from the tunnel on a balcony above. Gunfire rained down as instinct took control. An uncontrollable anger that had welled up inside him without warning. Below him, they screamed in chorus.

Quin looked up long enough to see Jack by the light of automatic gunfire. Jesse grunted as she slammed her rifle against the skull of another Morloki. The office man heard the crack as it split.

Jack was alive. He was here. His faith had been rewarded.

"I'm out!" he shouted.

Jesse threw him a pole. "Keep swingin!" she cried as she continued to bash with her rifle.

Above them, Jack took hold of his last clip. Popping it into his gun, he shouted. "Run! I'll cover you!"

Jesse grunted again. "Where?"

Quin slammed the pole against the neck of one of the monsters, causing it to crash into another. The two started fighting before one was cut down with bullet fire.

"Platform!" Jack shouted. "5 o'clock!" He aimed carefully, ripping a path through them. "Go go go!"

Quin took Jesse by the hand, pulling her behind him as he stayed close to the gunfire that led the way to higher ground.

* * *

She smelled it, faintly. A clean scent in the filth. Laced through the air as she neared the end of the railway tunnel.

Bracing herself against the wall, she stared out down the tracks. Two thirds of the way across the bridge was broken. She couldn't' judge the gap very well at this distance. But as she peered just past the side of the tracks, it was clear if she fell she'd land in stagnant water.

She opened her mouth and breathed deep, tasting a salty tang to the air. Stagnant saltwater.

Cautiously Mattie ventured out on the tracks. They creaked every couple of steps. Briefly the detective wondered when they were last used. This portion had been filled in for her... which meant not even the Captain knew it was there... unless he'd forgotten over the course of his long life. Glancing up, she saw a cross hatching of catwalks. But she could see no ceiling. How far below the surface had she gone? How far did she have yet to go?

The static in her ear began again. She froze in surprise, her gun arm raised and aiming at... well... she wasn't sure. There was nothing she could see in the darkness ahead.

_"Life signs. A handful. Can't tell who... or what. Be careful."_

Then, he was gone again. Nodding, Mattie began again. Faster now as she made the dangerous trek down the tracks.

Halfway across she heard them behind. Her right ankle was starting to lose sensation. She groaned in effort to keep going. Keep pushing on. The only thing keeping her going was sheer force of will. That and the knowledge that her nightmare was nearly over... one way or another.

Quickening her pace, she started to run. The gap was coming, but she was unsure if she'd make it across before they caught up to her.

The map fell away suddenly and her vision through her glasses was clear. Clear and green against a backdrop of black.

Her nose picked up a familiar scent of feces and sewage among the salty water.

There was no time to think as she charged, forcing herself faster. Forcing herself to gain more momentum.

She jumped, sailing through the air with legs still kicking... which was a good thing because she caught the back of a weevil going the opposite direction and was able to use it as a boost to get her across the rest of the gap.

They snarled in rage as they passed her by, uncaring of the human that hated them more than anything. The pack launched themselves across and met the Morloki that chased her claw for claw. A cacophony of primal howls in her wake, Mattie kept going. The map reasserted itself as she went into the tunnel at the other side.

Thinking herself home free, she wasn't prepared for what greeted her in the next opening. A dilapidated train station... swarming with weevils.

"Son of a-"

_"Do not engage. I repeat, do not engage!"_

* * *

Lilith held her hands to her head and screamed in mid song. Her green eyes clenched shut in pain as she felt the mass slaughter of her children. A pocket here. A pocket there. That was often normal. Her children enjoyed skirmishes with the sewer dwellers as human children enjoyed violent video games. But this outcry in her mind was far more than any playful prowl.

This was agony, this was pain. This was fear.

She turned, enraged by this. She charged him, her helpless prisoner. Hands reaching for him, claws out and ready to rip the smile right off his face.

It hurt to smile. But the steady pain of the wire under his chin, the sticky blood that bubbled forth... it was worth it to the Commander to see his enemy suffer so.

"You..." She held her hand mere centimeters from his face. "I could end you now. Give you to my children. I could plant my seed inside your gut and watch it grow inside until you burst apart... and regrow. Over and over until I get bored and devour you." He only continued to smile, letting the anger build. Letting it bubble and boil inside him until his moment of retribution... Safe in the knowledge that his team were still out there, fighting for their lives and killing as many of this woman's abominations with them.

She stared into his two colored eyes with a snarl. "You will be the last to die." Turning, the tattered skirts of her gown swirled around her feet as she returned to her throne. Lilith sat, staring at him as she opened her mouth once more and wove a ballad of murder, of genocide, for her ill gotten children.

All the while, Harborne smiled...

**CHAPTER 38**

She stood stock still. Frozen in place by her dread. These beasts, these fell and foul smelling things were the only monsters she truly feared. She could face the Morloki in utter darkness. Stand her ground against the relentless Sontarans. And even help give birth to a flesh eating Raxillian royal infant at the risk, literally, of life and limb.

But these things... for the last six years haunted her nightmares... The numbness in her legs and the scars across her torso where had they gone just a fraction of a centimeter deeper her innards would have been spilled out all over the spinning teacups ride at the local amusement park.

Her instinct told her to run. Her mind told her to kill them all before they killed her, then run. But Eddie's voice in her ear told her not to engage. Told her to pass them by without incident.

It was the passing by she had a problem with...

Even as an old, bald, and leathery skinned weevil stood behind her. Sniffing her like a dog.

It walked around her, sniffing and sniffing before throwing its head back in a howl. She clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the killing blow.

When it did not come, she opened one eye. It was staring back at her silently. Sniffing the air. Was it showing her mercy? Compassion? Or did it somehow know she was not the greater threat to them?

Opening her other eye, she glanced down at its dress. Just like all the others who came to this world, it wore some sort of jumper. A tattered, dark gray, full bodied uniform. Unlike all the others she had encountered and occasionally captured, she saw stitched a name. Crudely, as if done by a child who had yet to develop the finer motor skills to master such a task.

The name she read was simply **Janet**. And in its large, grotesque eyes she saw a spark of intelligence she had never seen in these creatures before.

It stepped aside with a limp. She never took her eyes off it as she started to pass. Janet growled and grunted, in the way weevils do, and the mass opened up before her. Clearing a path for her to walk. Uneasily she went through. Once clear, she quickened her pace. Hearing a howl rise up behind her, she glanced over her shoulder to see a small pack following. Not too close...

But she would soon learn they never let her get too far ahead...

* * *

Jack ran out of ammunition. He looked around for anything he could use as an improvised weapon. He found one in a piece of twisted framework that had, he guessed, at one time been part of the balcony's railing. He wrapped both hands around it and ripped it free, slicing his hands in the process. But he cared little as they stitched back together in seconds.

Quin and Jesse were swinging away from their platform as the Morloki tried to claw at their legs.

"I don't know how much longer we can hang on!" Quin exclaimed.

Jesse only grunted her agreement as Jack edged his way closer to the platform, planning to jump down and join them. That was, until he heard the howl of anguish across the cavernous space. Many of the Morloki abandoned the pair swinging for their lives and moved towards the sound.

Barking and snarling mixed with the hungry growls of the creatures.

"Rose!" Quin exclaimed, his mind racing in anticipation. "It's James! He made it!"

At his higher vantage point, Jack could see only the dog as she threw herself in wild abandon at one after another. Ripping and shredding with no regard for herself. He'd only seen her like that the night in the crater. When she was fighting to protect her master. In the pit of his stomach, Jack knew the ferocious canine was alone.

He abandoned his idea of joining the other two and threw himself down into the fray. The twisted metal rod slammed point first into a Morloki skull before he ripped it out and slammed it into another through the shoulder. The Commander was gone... Leaving only the Captain to keep fighting.

He felt like his old self again. That fearless man who had once roamed the streets of Cardiff, saving the day and protecting the world. The Doctor had helped fix his mental state. But it took the death of a child he had yet to create to reawaken his sense of purpose; his fighting spirit he thought had died with Ianto. He was alive again, and he was going to make sure every one of these bastards knew it.

* * *

She was grateful to have them trailing her after their first encounter on this side of the water. They were far more ferocious than she had ever known their kind to be. Far more bold and wild. But they dared not lay a hand on her. Instead, they crowded around her, keeping her boxed in the middle as if to shield her.

When danger passed, they would break away and she would continue forward... With the weevils not far behind.

Not much further. She'd decided to go after the lone dot. While the other three moved around in their box, the last was stationary. It hadn't moved even a smidge on her little screens.

But there was a problem now she hadn't counted on...

Standing before a curved, cinderblock wall, she groaned. Tapping her earpiece, she tried to hail Eddie.

"Dead end. I have to turn back."

Nothing.

The weevils came forward, looking around. They sniffed the air as they moved along the wall. One of them to her right grunted. Another went over and the pair communicated in that strange fashion that their kind do. Another pushed her from behind towards them. The pair looked up. She did, too.

A hole. Not very big. "I see..." she said, and then looked at her unlikely companions."But you won't be able to fit. I can't make it bigger."

The small pack grunted and growled and groaned together before the pair grabbed her. At first she struggled, thinking they had at last turned on her. Much to Mattie's surprise, they were trying to lift her up towards the hole. She tried to reach up to the edge, but it was still a few inches out of her reach. "Higher," she said.

A third weevil joined them, adding to the effort. They bobbed her up and down, but it was no use. They put her back down on the floor.

There was an echo in the darkness from whence they had come. The weevils looked to one another. Three broke away, their howls filling the tunnel as they rushed off to battle. The remaining two crouched down in a hurry, picking her up again from lower down her legs. Unsteadily she rose and threw her head back to look at the ever closer hole. Reaching up, she could just about grab the edge. The two weevils snarling below her, trying to push her higher.

Her fingertips brushed the cracked and broken cement. Mattie stretched as far and as hard as she could. Tightly, she grasped the edge with one hand and pulled up. Her legs were powerful due to her implants... But her arms were far stronger. A few years trapped in a wheelchair made sure of that.

She was able to swing her weight to bring up her other arm and take hold. Carefully she hoisted herself up, unnoticing that her pants legs caught on and ripped from the aliens' claws as they tried to hurry her on. Once topside of the hole, she looked back down at them with a newfound respect for the nightmarish creatures. "Thank you." She didn't care if they didn't understand her human words.

They howled up at her before joining their comrades in the shadows. She doubted she would ever see such a strange thing again... They only helped her because of a common enemy. But in this moment, Mattie thanked whatever powers may have been at work to bring those feces eating monsters to her world.

Getting to her feet, she cautiously looked around. Alone again. Nearly out of ammunition. She guessed she had less than five shots left. Conserved for her by the help of the weevils.

Looking at the map, she saw she was now on the same level as the fourth dot. She had to be careful now. She had to live.

Taking a step, she found it hard to move her left leg. It didn't hurt, but it was cumbersome now. Each time she moved it, pain shot up her spine. Biting into her lips, she held in her cries. This was no time for weakness.

Mattie knew what her friends, her family thought of her. Determined. Relentless. So long as she breathed, she always kept pushing. Kept after her goal. It was that inner reserve she drew from now as she limped as quickly as she could manage to her doom.

* * *

Jack and the dog had carved a path. The three humanoids followed the dog as she fought and scraped her way through. Her armor was nearly gone, her eyes locked on the tunnel leading down. Down further into the earth.

Down to her beloved master. Though the canine could not speak in the tongues of man, she conveyed her orders through action and sound. They must follow her, even as she knew her life was ending.

Her bond with her master overrode the strange songs wafting through the air to her. It was far stronger than the poison coursing through her body, changing her and killing her.

Rose skid to a stop.

Jack put his arms out to stop Quin and Jesse.

"Weevils?"

Rose barked her orders and dashed off around them. The weevils were busy with their own problems. The need to press on was far too great to bother with trifles such as these.

"Hey!" Jack exclaimed when they were clear. "I think I know one of those back there!"

"Time and a place, Jack," Quin snapped as Jesse groaned.

The farther Rose led them, the worse her head became. Thoughts of bacon and Jack and things she could do with both were no longer enough to suppress the instinctual fear in her soul. Her purple hands gripped the rifle tightly as she stuck close to Quin. Soon, she feared, she may be more useless than helpful. And the thought of losing Jack and the others because of her hereditary weakness was a terror that threatened to consume her even as the song of death pushed through to her conscious mind.

* * *

Mattie struggled her way through. Now dragging her leg behind her like a lame animal. The dots on the map were moving. They dropped down to her level, but were on the other side. Soon, soon she would be with them again. Soon, they would end this.

_"Matts. Matts. Are you okay? I'm showing that you've slowed. You're alone."_

She propped herself up against the rough wall. "Implants," she said, gasping to catch her breath. "Failing. Left gave out. Right not far behind."

_"Can you still move?"_

She nodded despite his not being able to see her. "Yeah. I don't know how much longer. Hurts to breathe. Spine... shocks. I think... I think I might be bleeding."

_"Damn it! I can't... If only I were there. I could-"_

"You are here," she said. "Eds?" she said, pushing herself back off the wall with a groan. She had to keep going. She wouldn't let herself be found, be eaten, be changed.

_"I'm here."_

"I've never told you before."

_"Don't."_

"There's never been anyone else I'd die for."

_"I'll get you out! I... I broke through the computers. Through the firewalls. If I can assimilate myself into the old servers, I can access the old hub's systems. I can access the Rift Manipulator! I'll get you out! I'll get you all out!"_

She winced at the intensity of his voice in her ear. Bringing the gun to her lips, she kissed the side of the barrel. "Tell da I'm sorry... Tell mum... tell her whatever you like," she said before ripping the earpiece off and letting it fall to the ground.

Her thoughts went back to the bomb in her pocket. If she had to... she'd buy the others time to escape... and then detonate.

A quick look at her map showed they were closer than she to the destination.

* * *

Over and over she had killed him. Taking great pleasure when he resurrected so that she may do it again. Creative, inventive. Each time more brutal than the last.

Not once, however, did she infect him. No, he was bait. And he knew it.

Lilith was a spider. This old network of tunnels and rooms her vast web beneath the bay. Beneath his city.

Even as she killed him, he made no sound. Only stared at her in silent fury.

Jack would come. Harborne knew that just as well as he knew he was the bait.

What the Morloki queen hadn't counted on was that she had placed her hungry kingdom right on top of the world's most powerful point of pure energy. Pure, raw, violent rift energy. And he had a plan on how to use it. But first... he needed to reach out and touch someone...

* * *

Jack's hand flew to his temple as he ground to a halt. Jesse bumped him from behind.

"Come on!" Quin shouted. Rose ahead of them stopped and doubled back to see what the trouble was.

"Jack?"

"I'm fine," he said, starting again with a shake of his head. But Jesse knew different. She could feel it, too... That terrible sense of dread, but also something else.

Something she'd felt at the crater with James, but hadn't told him of... The vibrations in the energy of the living machine. The very same she felt every time she had ever brushed his skin with her own.

"James..." she whispered as Jack stopped again, giving a sudden shout of pain.

_"Jesse! Jesse you have to sing!_

"What the-"

_ "...Oh... Wrong number... Jack. Make her sing! She has to... she has to..."_

Quin was at his side. Rose was tugging on the hem of his coat, trying to pull him along. "What is it?" Quin asked.

"He's alive," he said, looking at Jesse. "For the moment."


	15. CH39 and CH40

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
CHAPTERS 39 & 40**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 39**

"Sing? He wants me to sing? Now?"

Jack was behind her, Quin in front of her. Rose was at his side, poised and ready to strike as the Morloki closed in from both sides.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" Her grip on the rifle tightened as panic was setting in.

"I don't know," Quin said as he and Rose started to back up towards her. "But you'd better think of something."

Jesse swallowed hard, unsure of what to do. Unsure of what they expected of her. She was just a spy. Stealth operations. Undercover work. Hell, she was barely good at that. Her skills, what little she had, were useless for the battlefront. Useless for situations like this. "I don't know what to do!"

The Morloki attacked. She screamed, closing her eyes. The Sardosi instinct of fear took over. She froze, unable to move. Unable to do anything. Quincy ducked under a claw, bringing the pipe up under the beast's chin as hard as he could. Trying to drive it deep before ripping it away. "Jesse!"

"She's gone!" Jack shouted back. "Catatonia!"

"Fantastic!" he replied as Rose caught one of them by the arm, taking it down before tearing the limb off and lunging for another.

The Captain felt her brush against him as he backed up. There was nowhere left to go. Nowhere left to turn. That was when the waves hit him again.

"Not now!" he growled through clenched teeth, trying to block out the pain in his temple.

_"Jack! She has to sing! It's your only chance!"_

Distracted by the Commander in his head, Jack miscalculated his next swing. Having put his weight behind it, when he didn't hit his mark the momentum threw him off balance.

"Jack!" Quin cried as the immortal Captain took a tumble.

Jesse's eyes snapped open. Jack. Her Jack was in danger. Something welled up inside her. Something that beat back the all consuming fear that had been bred into her. Centuries worth of nightmares and terror were cast aside at the very idea of losing Jack, the man she had loved for half her life unrequited. She opened her mouth, and the floodgates were released.

In the small space, her voice boomed like thunder. Higher and higher, louder and louder she sang. Pouring her heart, her soul into each word. She didn't know where the words came from. She didn't care that they were in a language alien to Earth. It didn't matter.

Jack looked up from the ground. Up at this striped singing angel in the darkness and witnessed something that had not been seen in the universe for eight hundred years...

The Sardosi Ascension.

All around them the sound rose. Louder and louder. Higher and higher. The agony of the morloki's pain was palpable as Jack scrambled to his feet, falling back to Jesse along with Quincy.

"What's going on?" Quin tried to shout over the noise as the beasts turned on one another.

Jack shrugged, taking Jesse by the arm. "Don't stop!" Together the trio fled, Rose leading the way. Jesse's voice faltered only an instant as she tried to keep her voice strong while their feet pounded the dirt and pavement beneath them.

**o0o**

Mattie could push no further. Her legs were useless now. Her arms weak from the effort to drag herself across the rubble. She was so close. So close to the lair, so close to the others.

The young detective inspector had all but given up when she heard a familiar snarl ahead of her. Behind in the tunnel, in the darkness there rose up such a howl she knew the enemy would soon be upon her. Lying on her belly in the dirt, she would die.

"Funny..." she groaned, remembering her first encounter with a weevil. With Janet that fateful night she had met her first Torchwood member. Her last moments of consciousness that night were just like this. Bleeding out, but not from her legs as she was now. Face first in the dirt in the middle of a weevil den. Crippled, near death. But still willing herself to keep fighting even as she began to lose consciousness.

It was the moment that had earned her entry into this dark, alien world of her dreams. And as she closed her eyes, waiting for death to come at the sharp claws of a beastie, she thought it only fitting that she should go out the way she came in.

She didn't scream when she felt her arms grabbed. She didn't cry when she was carried over the shoulder of a foul smelling beast.

She recognized that scent. That scent which had haunted her for years. It now was a sign of comfort. Of her unlikely allies in this fight below the world. As she was carried away, she heard the cries of the Morloki as they met death at the hands of the Weevils.

**o0o**

Lilith screamed. Her shrill voice bouncing off the walls in echoes of agony. "What IS this NOISE!" Harborne watched her as she reached for her head, fingers digging at her hair. Pulling and scraping and crying out in pain as her servants, her children howled in chorus.

They went wild, turning on one another all around him. Tearing at one another as if driven mad by their hunger. Lilith rose, stepping forward with a stagger. Each step, he saw, was hesitant.

The look on her face was twisted, matching her soul... if she still had one. Bright green eyes flashed on him in anger. "You... You did this!" Her arm outstretched, her finger pointing in accusation. The creatures, her demonic cannibalistic children were ripping one another apart around them. Chunks of flesh were torn from bone. The foul stench of Morloki blood filled the air. Of decay and death.

Lillith staggered towards him, her arm still outstretched and hand open wide. Ready to dig her venomous nails into his flesh at any moment.

Harborne caught his breath as she stopped just inches away from his exposed neck, his eyes wide as he saw the confusion and rage in her face. She was struggling. Struggling with something that prevented her from killing him. Each moment she tried to get closer she screamed. Her voice like nails scraping against a chalkboard to his ears.

She was forced to step back when one of her guards slammed into her from the side while it fought with its kin. Green eyes looked on him before she opened her mouth. "She wants a duel... She'll have one!" The voice that issued forth was filled with cruelty and hate. Fueled by a passion for destruction. A banshee song. A ghostly wail.

And the Morloki who before had been tearing across one another now became still as statues.

**o0o**

With Jesse's voice, proud and strong, reverberating off the walls the team pushed through the madness. Pushed through the chaos. The dreaded monsters of the darkness fled from the angelic opera approaching them. Scattering like roaches from the light. As her voice became a thunderous force, Jesse took point alongside Rose, and was unafraid.

They came to a stop and Rose howled. Ahead of them stood a large door of iron. But outside this door, between the heroes and their enemy, were Morloki.

"Berserkers," Jack warned as he tightened his grip.

Jesse nodded. "He's in there," she said. "With Her. They can see him. Through them I can see him, too."

Quin swallowed hard, his heart aching in fear of what they may find. What state they would discover their leader, their friend, in when they finally would pass through the gates of hell. He came forward as Jesse gasped and staggered back against him with a groan. He put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "What's wrong?"

"She's resisting me. She's... She's trying to retake control."

"Then start singing again you-"

Jack was interrupted as Rose barked. Howls in the darkness heralded the arrival of new demons from the tunnel to their immediate right. With one hand Jack pulled Jesse to him and jumped out of the way.

A mass of foul smelling clawed and fanged beasties stampeded out of the depths. Their voices rose as one, their cries ringing out in what Jack could only call instinct. And among it all the Captain heard the unmistakable fury of a woman spurned. The mighty battle cry of Matilda Williams could be heard louder than any weevil growl.

Riding high upon the shoulders of her worst and most hated enemy Matilda led them. Her legs bandaged with makeshift tourniquets, and a metal pole clasped in one hand, she urged her army onward into battle. Onward to their doom.

"We'll hold them off!" she cried. "You three get in there!"

"Mattie!-"

"No time Jack!" The pole came crashing down, slicing the air before echoing off the bones of a carnivorous creature.

Quin, Jesse, and Jack made their way across the battlefield to the door, trying to find a way to open it. "It slides this way!" Quin shouted so they could hear him. "Push in, and try to maneuver it left!"

The trio only managed to move it an inch before, at the commanding grunts of Mattie, two weevils joined the effort. The door was moved just enough to allow them passage inside. Jack went first, followed by Jesse, then Quin. Rose stopped before going in, barking at the weevils who snarled viciously in return. They could smell the scent of death on her, even as she slipped into the shadows. Once loving eyes were now yellow and big and bright... allowing her to see into the darkness.

**o0o**

Lillith, seated upon her throne of skulls, looked to Harborne and felt quite pleased with herself. "Almost here..." she said. Her fingers tapping the bone beneath her hand in a repetitive pattern.

One. Two. Three. Four. Pause. One. Two. Three. Four...

Frowning he tried to place it. Somewhere in his past he had heard it before, he was sure. He had known that beat.

She stopped, looking to him again. "She thinks she can save you..." she said, head cocked to the side. "I can feel her now. Inside me, crawling around like an insect. Searching for my weaknesses." She tapped the beat again, smiling as she did so. "But I can see inside that slow witted mind of her's as well. So devoted, so noble. Still clinging to that last shred of hope."

Harborne's hearts beat faster. If Lillith could be so strongly connected to Jesse now then it meant she could perhaps control her. Perhaps she now knew his plans for what they were.

The guards began moving once more. Stiffly, more like zombies than the agile hunting machines they were. It took, he guessed, an enormous amount of control and attention to keep them under her thrall while a second song existed. Shuffling almost against their will, they congregated near the exit and readied themselves for a fight.

From the crowd burst forth Quin, followed by the others. From his angle Harborne saw the sorry state they were in. He hoped the blood soaking them was not their own. He hoped that of the three, Jack remained infection free.

Two colored eyes went wide as he desperately tried to open his mouth, to shout as Quin came nearer to free him. All he could manage was a yelp as the pain hit his jaw where the wire dug into rapidly healing flesh.

Quin went down, his pole falling from his grip as he skid across the blood slicked floor. Brown-blue eyes followed until he came to a stop at the Commander's feet. The office manager's body limp as a ragdoll, his neck bent from the Morloki guard's large hand wrapping 'round it before snapping as it threw him.

**o0o**

"To the death!" Mattie cried, swinging her pole as the weevil bearing her burden tightened its grip on her legs. It held her steady as she commanded her alien army to victory over the Morloki.

The predators of the rift, by sheer force of will combined with the unyielding determination of the human woman were more than a match for these mutated parasites that stalked the shadows of Cardiff.

The weevil beneath her gave a growl, which was taken up by those around her. A fearsome snarl broken only by the shriek of a single voice. The scream of the striped angel.

Jesse's strong and bold voice cracked as she cried out his name...**"QUINCY!"**

It echoed down the corridor beyond the iron door, and burst forth into the cavernous make-shift lobby of the damned. Mattie pressed her hand against the weevil's cheek. It looked up at her, and with her pole she pointed. To the opening, to the inner lair. "Into the breach!" she cried.

Metal scraped metal and the darkness beckoned. Her team, her friends were inside. And she was needed again.

**o0o**

Jack stood between them. Unable to leave Jesse, unable to rescue the man who would be his son. Rose did her best, remaining at the foot of the rack where her master was suspended. Where Quin was crumpled and immobile. She kept the monsters at bay, for the moment.

Jesse's throat felt tight, her chest even tighter. Quin was down, James still bound. It was all she could do to keep it together.

"The only way," Jack said, grunting as he swung, "We'll survive this. You gotta sing again."

"I don't know." Her rifle butt connected with a ribcage. "If I can."

From her throne, safely away from the battle at the entrance, Lillith rose. Her sorrowful voice rising, stirring her children to that ever present beat. One. Two. Three. Four. Stirring them deeper into madness. **"XANTHE!"** she shouted, her voice challenging as she came forward from her dais.

Jesse saw her; even in the dim light of the torches she recognized this Janus-faced deformity that had so long ago been the picture of Sardosi might. Until now, she had believed their enemy to be her sister, left to the Tribe to raise as a bastard. But no. This woman, this monster queen was not the Lillith she knew. This woman was the ghost, the shade of the remnants of her own mother. The mother she had been forced to kill with her own bare hands at the age of 13. "No..."

"Jess-"

"Jack," she snapped, her will to fight returning. Her instinct surging from the depths of her heart. "Save your son. You have to survive."

"I'm not going to abandon you."

She tossed her rifle, giving a sharp whistle. Jack caught it easily. "This is my fight Jack. _GO!"_

With a nod, Jack fought his way through to Rose and Quin. He could see the canine properly now. The blood smeared across her armor. The raw, open wounds where claws had broken through. Wild, yellow eyes, Morloki eyes, consumed by something far stronger than the bloodlust. A will stronger than any he had ever known, and knew he would ever see again.

She allowed him to pass as Quin began to groan. She knew he was no threat to her humans. Her masters, her companions.

Jack got the wire off first, grimacing as he pulled it out of the young man's flesh as if slicing through butter.

"Can you fight?" he asked as he unbound the man's hands.

Harborne nodded, waiting just long enough for his vocal cords to knit back together. "Quin," he croaked, reaching out weakly as Jack unbound his feet.

Once free, the rifle was thrust into his hands. He stood to one side of his fallen love, Jack on the other. Before they could defend themselves, there rose a chorus before the flood.

The weevils had arrived. Their general snarling and grunting with them before her voice rose up. "Protect the survivors!" she cried.

In the light cast off by the torches, Harborne saw her. Riding high astride its back, he knew this Valkyrie would never fail him. "Leave no Morlock alive!" she cried, driving her pole into a skull before ripping it out and riding on.

**CHAPTER 40**

Lillith came at her, hands outstretched with long nails like blades protruding from pale and bony fingers. Jesse raised her hands to catch her wrists. "Jack!" she cried, even while her secondary feline features began to reveal themselves. Her teeth began to elongate as a vampire about to feed. Her pupils dilated, and then constricted back into thin slits as her heart rate shot up. "Get them out!"

"We can manage," Harborne said, kneeling at Quin's side as Jack, Rose and the weevils fought the demons off.

"You're not going alone."

"We have to!" Harborne snapped harshly. "We have to reach the rift machine!"

"**_WHAT!_**" Jack exclaimed as he shoved a morlock into the claws of a weevil.

"I have to destroy it." Harborne looked down at Quin, watching as the marks on his neck faded to nothing. The man's green eyes opened and his lips parted in a gentle gasp.

"James?"

He let himself give a brief, faint smile. "On your feet soldier. No time to lose."

Jack watched over his shoulder as Quin got to his feet. The disorientated man looked around for his pole, but found nothing.

"Anyone still got eyes?" Harborne barked.

Jack tossed him the sunglasses he still carried. Harborne put them on quickly. "Rose. Priority three."

The dog snarled angrily at him.

"**Don't** give me that. Protect her," he said, then his voice became desperate. "_Please_."

"We have to go, James," Quin insisted.

Mattie, struggling nearby heard them. She glanced over to see her boss and Quin weaving their way across the lair. She gave a grunt and a howl. Part of her pack howled back before darting after them.

As the survivors continued to fight for their lives Jesse was struggling for control. Control of the Morloki... And control of herself...

**o0o**

With the bulk of the Morloki beasts engaged back at the lair there weren't too many to stand against them as they wound their way through the tunnels.

Weevils close on their heels, covering their backs. But they only had a single rifle turned club between them.

"How do you plan on-"

"I've got a few ideas," Harborne panted as they ran.

"Good."

"Though," he added. "Could get tricky."

"Not so good."

"Lillith nicked my screwdriver."

Quin groaned beside him. "You've still got the vortex manipulator though?"

"Oh yeah. The rest of me's fine, thanks for asking. Not currently host to the destruction of humanity and the utter doom of planet Earth. Really, I didn't think you cared."

Again Quin groaned. "Inappropriately cute banter later. Sort of saving the world at the moment," he said.

Harborne couldn't help but smirk as they took a sudden left according to the map on the little sunglass screens. Then a sharp right before finding themselves facing a steep decline...

And quickly sliding down it.

**o0o**

From her perch Mattie could see the throne. Her stomach turned and she swallowed the bile. Now was not the time. Close to the throne were Jesse and the queen.

Each woman was panting; fingers ended in razor sharp claws as they yowled in pain before clashing together again.

Mattie swung her pole like a gold club, cracking a beast in the jaw and sending it careening towards the entrance. "Jack!" she shouted, unsure how much longer they'd be able to hold out.

"Still here!" he called back, hemmed in by weevils.

There came a hiss from the throne as Lillith pinned Jesse to its side. Her mouth was open, unhinging as if to devour her.

Suddenly there was a flash of red and cold and metal scales. Lillith was thrown back in a cry of surprise. Between her and Jesse now stood the ragged Retriever. Her once soft brown eyes now bright bold yellow. Her wounds bubbled and frothed as she fought to stay upright. Drool mixed with her contaminated blood dripped from her jaws as she dug those steel tipped claws into the cracked cement beneath her.

Lillith looked upon this creature and recognized it. The dread the felt, the agony and the pain. The insurmountable will that she had thought, had believed came from the girl the dog now protected.

"I am your master!" Lillith cried, no longer the reflection of an eerie, otherworldly beauty. She was a clawed, hungry beast like the rest of her bastard parasitic children.

Jesse was on her feet again, breathing hard and fighting back her pain, ready for another round. But Rose had other plans.

From deep in the canine's throat there came a mighty roar the likes of which not even the widely traveled Jack had ever heard before. The lair shook as the Morloki took up the cry and even as the weevils continued their relentless assault, turned their hunger on that which created them. That which had enslaved them to her will.

As the morlocks swarmed their mother-Queen, Rose turned and cast her yellow gaze on Jesse.

The dog knew there was no going back for her. She was old... 26 by human count. She was tired and dying. But there was the order of her master. The annoying, horrible, vile feline creature must be protected. It was and always had been priority three.

And Rose had never disobeyed a command from her human.

She barked, darting for the entrance. She would lead them as far as she could. And not even the weevils dared to cross her, for fear of having their enemy turned back against them.

**o0o**

It had been steeper than anticipated on the way down. Once more Harborne and Quin were grateful for the weevil escort. Obstacles were moved out of the way. Chunks of stone hauled aside.

The two men ran on, unknowing if they would survive. Unknowing that if they did, would they want to?

Echoes ahead signaled more Morloki. But their cries were far different from their insatiable hunger. And they knew it.

"Jess..." Harborne whispered, his hopes renewed. "Come on! Nearly there! We'll be home in time for tea and telly, yeah!"

At the far end of the corridor there was a light. A glowing red light that was incongruous with their expectations. Harborne checked his wrist strap... Which confirmed his growing fears. When they emerged into the harsh red glow it was not a rift machine they faced but something else. The ancient rift machine had been used to build...

"A paradox machine..." James Harborne said in a hushed tone.

As the weevils made quick work of the weakened morlock guards, Harborne was realizing three things.

The first was that he was not equipped for this bullshit.

The second was that right this very second he wished Jack had come with them. Because he wanted to punch him in the throat for getting them into this mess.

And the last thing he realized was that he was actually afraid. Completely and undeniably afraid.

**o0o**

The Morloki were frenzied. Mindless hungry beasts that now were full of fear. Fear in the absence of a song to bind their minds together.

Jesse wanted to watch. To stand by and wait for them to clear away from the body. But Jack was there, pulling her away. His hands felt cold on her arms. She looked at him, but did not hear him shouting at her. He was pulling her along with him to the entrance of the lair. She tried to look back, but she still couldn't see. Not the body of Lillith, the woman who had once been her mother. Only the monstrosities that she had created.

Mattie grunted, watching as Jack pulled the Sardosi from the scene. Her weevil chariot carried her, flanked by its brothers and sisters, towards the frenzied and writhing mass of bodies.

She gave a commanding growl and the weevils started to rip into the pile, tearing them away and clearing them from their fallen queen.

Mattie reached into her shirt. Blood slicked fingers wrapped around the gun she had tucked into her bra. She pulled it out and checked the chamber. One bullet left. One bullet she'd been saving. Just for this.

A gut wrenching howl, primal and raw, erupted from her lips and the weevils moved aside, holding the Morloki at bay.

Lillith, her body torn to ribbons, a stump of her former self... was still breathing. Still trying to move and twitch. Her wild eyes were still open and staring. In that brief moment when their eyes locked, Lillith recognized her. Knew everything about her from the memories and thoughts of the hosts taken into her brood.

When her children were still human, still surface dwellers, they had seen her. Glimpses and fleeting moments. Fighting, running, killing. And then she saw this human smile. Not in her presence, no. But in the memories. The memories of a host she could no longer touch with her mind.

"That's it," Mattie said as her weevil carried her closer. "You saw his mind. His brilliant, beautiful mind. And you know who I am."

Lillith's broken face twisted in horror. Her busted lips parted and her once enchanting voice was now a hoarse croak. "Mercy," she begged. "Mercy."

Mattie aimed, her arm tired and weary. But she forced it to steady. She had made a vow. She had given her word. She would see the whites of the bitch's eyes when she died. "You took my brother," she said. "I'm taking him _back_."

Her finger pulled back.

The gun went off.

And the last thing Lillith saw was the broken human female. And then the cold, clammy hands of utter death that followed.

**o0o**

Harborne was frantic. Running around the machine in circles as he tried to figure out what to do. If he tried to reprogram it to disarm it safely, the feedback loop could literally unmake him and destroy half the planet. If he tried to destroy it, it could detonate the charges his wrist strap detected in the initial scans of this terrifying technology.

Either way the prospect of a more permanent death is what he was faced with. And there was nothing he could do.

Like a scared child, he sought the comfort of a hand to hold. And his ever present companion was there.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm... there's nothing I can do. I touch it, we die. I destroy it, we all go Belgium. I've failed." He closed his eyes, and when he did Quin's hand slipped out of his grasp.

"Not yet you haven't!" he shouted, crashing the makeshift club down on a panel. He brought it up again to swing like a cricket bat. Swinging as hard as he could, slamming it against the tall, cylindrical column that served as the centerpiece.

As anticipated, the charges in the cavern began to detonate.

The corridor which had brought them caved in. There was no escape. The world was crashing down around them. Trapped with a paradox machine and a pack of confused and frightened weevils.

As far as final fights and ultimate death scenes go, Harborne honestly never saw this coming. He searched around for something to use and found a hunk of cement.

"DUCK!" he shouted. Quin turned, jumping out of the way as the chunk sailed through the air.

It crashed into what appeared to be the main control panel, causing it to erupt in a shower of sparks and flame.

Harborne scrambled through the debris, finding more to throw before his eyes caught sight of his companion again. "Every time," he muttered under his breath when he saw the other man's leg was pinned by a fallen piece of the ceiling. He started for him when an explosion in the wall behind him rocketed him forward and threw him to the ground.

"James!" Quin cried out as he crashed down.

Harborne looked up, barely able to move. He'd been closer than he'd thought to the blast, and could smell the char, could feel the sear in his back as his flesh tried to patch itself up again so soon. His arm stretched out, inching closer.

Quin's green eyes were damp. It could have been sweat, Harborne thought as the other man's arm came out, straining for his hand.

The cavern shook violently as the remaining charges finally blew.

The ceiling caved in; a rain of dirt and stone. Soon even that was covered with the cold salty flood of water as it rushed in from the bay above... trapping two immortals below.

* * *

_**A/N** _- Sorry for such a long delay, folks. There's been a LOT of trouble trying to get this one together. Writer's blocks plus accidentally writing a completely different story all together because the referance files we'd had were lost/destoryed in the process of various life changing things. So, hope the awesomeness of this makes up for it. Hope to have it wrapped up pretty soon (meaning in the next few months, as we've got other stories active at the moment as well.)


	16. CH41 and CH42

_**Written by twtl and Z. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: We don't own Torchwood. We don't own Doctor Who. We wish we could own them both, but we can't. Hell, we'd settle for the K9 spin-off pilot that failed many years ago... but sadly, we can't have that either. All of that is owned by the BBC.**_

_**TORCHWOOD: RESURRECTION  
CHAPTERS 41 & 42**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 41**

The survivors followed the canine turned Morlock through the tunnels. Mattie and her minions were bringing up the rear. She was following their progress on the map in her specs when two distant dots on the blueprints suddenly went dark.

Her chest tightened. She watched as she was carried, now slumped with exhaustion, against the beast of which she was a burden.

She wanted to cry, realizing those two little dots weren't going to return. But she couldn't. She wanted to, and oh she needed to... but they wouldn't come. She had become too hard, too proud. And now... She was the only one left.

Ahead of her and her pack she could hear Jack and Jesse. And she felt the weight of command bearing down on her.

**o0o**

He died.

They both died.

He knew this. He had felt the heat of the explosions. Felt the shrapnel as it slammed into his back, tearing through fabric and flesh as it propelled him forward through the air. He felt the weight of the world as it crashed down around them. And his only thought before his death, their death, had been for _him_. If he could only just reach that hand...

But that wasn't what his brain focused on now.

Logic told him he died. They died. And the laws of Temporal Quantum Biology told him he would be reviving at some point in the near or possibly distant future. It was just a matter of time.

But that wasn't what his brain focused on now.

What it focused on was the fact that he was **aware** of his predicament. Aware during that period of darkness between his death and his eventual resurrection. That was new. It had never happened before, and he had quite a catalogue of deaths to extrapolate data from. Thus, he found this current development a bit disturbing.

He sighed, but knew he didn't actually sigh. It was more of a mental sigh.

"_Well,"_ he thought to the strangeness of this between state. _"Wonder if I've still got legs... Would make sex a bit awkward..."_

There was a groan in the void. A groan that he knew wasn't a groan. Not a real one. And he recognized it as definitely **not** his own.

_"We just saved the bloody world,"_ the thought passed, lacking it's normal and forced American flavor in favor of a more... Welsh sound. And he knew this thought was not his own. _"And all you're worried about is awkward sex."_

_"So you're alive then._

_"Depends on your definition."_ Another groan. _"Stop it."_

_"Stop what?" _he thought back, thinking up a rather devious idea. His imagination elicited a moan. Then an annoyed and unamused thought from the other Awareness.

_"Stop thinking sex at me! This is not the time, nor the place!"_

He gave another mental sigh, and let the thoughts drift away into the peaceful void. Then, after a while...

_"James?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"When we get back... Do you think it'll be quick? Or are we sort of stuck in some special hell for immortals?"_

He thought of shrugging. He hadn't the faintest idea. He'd had past experiences where he'd been pinned down. Dying over and over before finally struggling free. Those had been slow and agonizing. Then there'd been the times he'd gone down fighting. Cut down before he knew what hit him. Those had been quick.

_"I hope,_ he thought, and imagined he were holding the owner of the other Awareness in his non-existent arms. It was almost real. He could, if he tried, actually smell the dirt and the sweat mixing with that familiar scent of fresh brewed coffee that had always clung to his companion. _"If it's this or repetitive agony and death, I hope we just stay like this. It's kinda of nice, not feeling anything at all."_

A sudden tremor shook through his Awareness. The other was suddenly in a panic.

_"What's wrong?"_ he thought at him.

_"I just realized..."_ A pause, and a forlorn moan of sorrow. _"I'll never get to drink coffee again!"_

**o0o**

They came to a dead end. Jack recognized this section. IT was the basement which, at one time, housed a secret Cyberman conversion unit. There was no time to shudder as the doors slammed shut and were barricaded.

Jack was pressed tight against the barricade, trying his best to keep the doors closed.

The few remaining weevils were at his side, throwing their weight upon it. Mattie was carefully lowered to the floor with a grunt from the effort.

"It's hopeless," she said, using her arms to pull herself to prop against the wall. "There's no way out of here. We're trapped." Through her specs she could make out the sinister shape of Rose. Her body broken and deformed. Her teeth coated in thick, dark blood. "It's only a matter of time before it turns on us."

Jesse shook her head, back pressed against the wall as she struggled to catch her breath. "No," she said. "Rose would never-"

"It's one of them now!" Mattie barked, causing the weevils to get a bit agitated.

Jesse hissed at her in defense of the canine. "If you hadn't noticed, Rose has... is **still **protecting us. She will-"

"The girl has a point," Jack snapped. "Look at her, Jesse. Really _look_. That's no dog anymore."

How could she explain it to them? How could the Sardosi tell them she sensed the danger, yes. She felt the wild beast that raged inside the old dog... but also the profound loyalty as well. There was no disputing that Rose was gone... but an echo of her former self stubbornly remained, determined to do her duty and fulfill her master's last command of her.

"Humans..." Jesse whispered to herself. They just couldn't _understand_ like she could. They only saw with their eyes, only heard with their words...

Rose nudged her leg, and she turned her head as if to look down on her in the dark. Then she knelt and stroked her sickly head through its battle mask.

Mattie watched through her specs, the Sardosi and the monster. As she resigned herself to their collective fate, text began to overlay the map and scene before her. At first she couldn't understand it...

Then her tired mind recognized the shorthand. It was Eddie! Eddie from inside the hub computers! "Jack!" she exclaimed. "JACK!"

"What? I'm-" He grunted as the barricade began to shift. "BUSY!"

"Eddie's got a plan," she said excitedly. "If we can get just one more level higher he'll remote activate the jumpers! He'll get us out of here!"

"No coordinates," Jack reminded her. "And no way out."

Jesse stood as Rose nudged her leg. "We have to try. We have to get Jack out alive. Everything depends on him." Rose barked again, wagging her tail. "All we need is a good distraction..."

All eyes turned to Rose, who seemed in her own monstrous and canine way to smile.

**o0o**

"And Mad Eddie strikes again!" he cried, spinning in his digital chair and fist pumping the digital air. It hadn't been all that difficult to hack his own computer systems once he'd come to terms with what Mattie had told him. He was _inside_ the computers, or rather, a separate portion blocked off with some cheeky firewalls and data buffers.

He didn't question who's work that had been. Mattie knew just enough to use the tech, Quin preferred outdated models and contraptions, and Jack didn't exactly know his way around yet. So it left only the Commander, who's skill level gave him quite a challenge. But it had only served Eddie with a distraction.

Now he had the entire Torchwood network at his fingertips. Not just Torchwood... The entire **world**. And right now he was the king of the digital domain. The all seeing eye of Big Brother...

He hopped up from his chair with the urgency of a slapdash mad scientist and bounded across the room. The original version of the digital replica of the Hub. Reaching out between stations, a door appeared and he grasped the handle. It opened on a room full of computers and screens. This, in his digital mind palace, was the CCTV room. It was also so much **more** than that. It was his masterpiece.

A digital representation of his own mind's inner workings. Rather, how he imagined his mind to be ordered and operating.

But Eddie had no time to admire his work. Lives were at stake, his own included. The boy genius would have time to play later. Right now there was work to do.

In the center of this room there was a stool. On wheels. It was here Eddie placed himself, cracked his knuckles, and put them out to touch the non-existent air.

Instantly an array of buttons and levers and keyboards were floating at his fingertips. Panels with dials and translucent data screens circled him like an electrified embrace.

He glanced up at a map, a hologram of where his sister and Jack and Jesse were pinned. He'd already sent the message, hoping his sister had deciphered it. Hoping she understood what he wanted her to do.

As he worked, an alert popped up at the corner. With only a thought, the little box opened to reveal a miniature map of Wales.

"Hrm... Where to land them..."

A grin spread across his sickly pale face then. Of course. There was only one logical choice.

Eddie chose the coordinates, chuckled to himself, and returned to the task at hand: re-reprogramming his precious rift jumpers to receive his remote commands.

**CHAPTER 42**

It was now or never. Mattie gave the signal. The weevil hoisted her up onto its back once more as the others cleared the barricade. The moment the doors were uncovered Jack pulled them open. Snarling and frothing at the mouth Rose shot out with the weevils behind her. Seconds later Jack, Jesse, Mattie and her weevil followed.

"Watch your back!" Jesse called, struggling to be heard above the chaos around them as they ran.

"Straight ahead! Seventy-two feet, then left!"

**o0o**

Eddie watched their progress on the monitors. He could see what his sister saw. He wished she hadn't lost her pod. He wanted to hear her, hear the noises of life. Instead he settled for South Korean radio plays for his background static.

An alert window flashed, begging his attention. He only glanced at it, waving it off with a mental command to remind him later.

**o0o**

_"How long has it been?"_

_"Time doesn't exist here."_

_"No, I meant how long since you found out... that you don't..."_

He thought about it, but instantly regretted doing so having forgotten that his every thought was broadcast to the other Awareness.

A car accident. Teenagers. A crushed truck and three dead on impact. No...

The driver... The driver gasps. Panics. Screams.

Then nothing.

He stamped it back again into his mental vault, but it was already too late. He felt the wave of overwhelming concern.

_"I was 15. I shouldn't have driven. I knew it was a bad idea... but I didn't want Jack to know. I'd gotten vey VERY drunk and stolen his new truck."_

_"I'm sorry."_ A pulse of compassion broke through the wave of concern. Melting into curiosity.

But he wouldn't have any of it. Instead, he broadcast a shrug of annoyance. _"We should have come back to life by now. In extreme agony, but still..."_

_"Jack was once dead for three days."_

_"Pfft. Drama queen." _A pause. A joint laugh. Then calmness in the ocean of thoughts again. _"But seriously love. There's something __**wrong**__. Perhaps the blast from the rift manipulator vaporized us."_

_"Then explain this endless nothingness. And the fact that we're sort of... here but not."_

_"Uh... Physical bodies vaporized while our consciousness was converted to pure energy by the spatial displacement feedback loop that powers the manipulator?"_

_"...You're just trying to sound clever... You have no idea, do you?"_

_"Hey, it's no unheard of! The Time Lords voted to do just exactly that to themselves. Turn into little blobs of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey energy. The Doctor told me-"_

_"So it's possible."_ A discontented sigh. "_But not very probable."_

**o0o**

They came to a shuddering halt. Jesse would have laughed when they bumped into one another like a cartoon, had they not been running for their lives. "What is it?"

"Hope your brothers' as good as he thinks he is," Jack said, pointing to the hive ahead. It seemed... empty. But they could never be sure with these creatures.

"What... What _is_ this place?"

Jack surveyed the cavernous expanse. Examining from a distance the open hatches in the wall. He knew this place. Knew it better than the rest of the old base. He'd had to come here so often... The contents of each compartment committed to memory.

Mattie's weevil edged closer to the opening. Just enough for her to peer in. "I don't see a way out. Jack," she said, still watching the room before them. "Ideas?"

He nodded. There was only one way left to them. If they could just get high enough... "Start climbing and don't look down."

Behind them they could hear the echoes of the beasts. The agonized wail of the weevils as they struggled to hold the Morloki at bay just a little longer.

The creature beneath her tensed at the sound. Softly she growled to it, giving a grunt and nodding towards the wall of hatches. It hesitated even as Jesse began her climb. Jack waited but at the sounds of battle looming closer he became more impatient. "Come on!"

The weevil would not move. Mattie had no choice. "Leave me," she said, reaching to remove her specs, but she stopped when Jack came nearer.

"Not on your life," Jack replied, rounding the weevil and pulling her down. He staggered back, nearly falling with her dead weight against him.

"You'll never be able to carry me all that way."

"You'll pull yourself up with your arms and I'll boost from below," he groaned as he dragged her backwards. Back towards the open hatches.

"Jack-"

"No arguments," he snapped, manhandling the woman until she could grab hold of a handle. Not far above them Jesse was struggling to keep up her pace, telling herself not to look down. Not to peer into the darkness below.

Reaching up for the next handhold she screamed and pulled her arm away from the stinking, rotting mass of flesh she found there. The corpse was long since dead, half eaten by whatever had been trapped inside with it.

Jack gave Mattie her first boost, his blood running cold at the echoes of the scream. This was the morgue. The storage locker of the dead... A food supply kept on ice... And a perfect breeding ground.

The Captain wouldn't allow these thoughts a voice. He wouldn't be the one to send them back into a panic. He wouldn't be the one to point out that at any moment a hatch could open around them, beside them, above or below them... and spew forth the terrors of the Morloki. Instead he swallowed a mouthful of the putrid air and shouted. "Don't think about it!" Jack called up to the Sardosi. "Keep climbing!"

Jesse shuddered, but his reminder, his encouragement helped her to steel herself. Jack was right. Her only thoughts now were on survival. Everything else was just... noisy distraction.

**o0o**

From his digital mind palace Eddie monitored their progress. They had slowed to a crawl. But a vertical crawl. The blueprints showed they had come to the morgue. The monitors showing the view through Mattie's specs let him get a grasp of their activities.

A frown marred his features as he thought hard on what he was seeing. The occasional sweeps across the darkness. The green tinted world seen through a night vision spectrum. Things were missing. Things that greatly changed his plans of aiding their escape.

"There's supposed to be walkways... Cat walks... and scaffolding..." he said to himself. "This isn't right. This is sooooo far from being right."

Thousands of calculations whizzed around in his head, presenting themselves for review on a nearby console that just seemed to materialize on his wrap-around workstation. There was little time to crunch another set of new numbers. He only had one shot at this. One shot to get it absolutely right, or else his sister and the others would be lost forever. Trapped in the ether or worse... become food.

One dot on the blueprints began to flash, signaling that it was within range of the Checkpoint Grid. He made a mental note to adjust the grid at the next opportunity to allow for teleportation at deeper depths. Could come in handy for some underwater job...

He watched his screens and monitors in anticipation, his hands poised to give the final keystrokes. To reactivate the jumpers. "Come on Matts... just a little higher..."

**o0o**

Jack felt something grab for his ankle. Instinctively he pulled his leg up, then slammed his foot down against the monster that had sought to dig its claws deep into living tissue. The creature fell away as he heard metal scraping against metal above. "What's-"

"Jesse's pulled out a slab," Mattie said through clenched teeth, her arms screaming for relief. Her muscles burning, threatening to give out on her at any moment. She looked up into the dark again, reaching out as Jack gave her a push from below. She could hear the strain as he groaned beneath her weight. Her hand locked onto a handle of one of the hatch doors, but her fingers slipped, her arms finally betraying her.

She gave a shout of surprise when long, slender digits wrapped around her wrist. Jesse's voice settled her fears as she felt herself pulled upwards. "I've got you," she said in her strange cocktail of Dixie drawl, Welsh twang, and adopted English vowels.

The Sardosi helped the DI up onto the metal slab sticking out from the open compartment. The smell was distinctly foul... But Jack mused as Mattie's weight was lifted from him that it could have been so much worse...

"What now?" he asked, pulling himself up even with them. "We're stuck on the top shelf and nowhere left to go but down."

As she watched him, watched his face as he tried so hard to keep a brave face. But behind his eyes, eerily similar to her own Jack, her Commander, she could see his worry. His doubt that even he could make it out of this scrape alive. Then she noticed a blinking. Steady and true. Her gaze shifted behind her specs to his wrist.

"Jack-" she began.

Jesse must have seen it too, as she grabbed the younger woman's arm and checked the machine strapped to it. Also blinking. She was then not surprised to see her own doing the same.

"Eds..." Mattie breathed, her hope renewed as his familiar shorthand filled her vision again. White text overlaid on a field of black and greens. Below them the trio could hear the echoes of the Morloki, growling as they ate...

The last of Mattie's brave, valiant Weevil army had fallen.

It wouldn't be long until they, too, felt the sharp teeth of the parasitic monsters. Until they became scraps for a desperate meal. But just as this dark thought passed through Jack's mind, nausea racked his body. His grip tightened to keep him from falling as he felt like his stomach was trying to crawl up and out of his throat. For a few seconds he thought he heard the girls, groaning beside him.

Then...

The welcome nothingness of peace washed through him.

And he knew they were saved.

* * *

_**A/N -** _Wow. Just... WOW. This story is nearly completed. There's 1 more chapter, plus an epilogue. PLUS... BONUS MATERIAL... Which will be attatched to this file/fic so that you don't miss ANY of the good parts. You're welcome in advance.


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